


The Road

by JamesJohnEye



Series: Things unattempted yet (in prose or rhyme) [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-02 14:35:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5251913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesJohnEye/pseuds/JamesJohnEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The group left the library before they had any concrete plans about where they were going. The south is far and wide. They follow the sun only because memories of harsh winters frighten them. They want to avoid the barren land they left behind, the hunger which almost caused their own downfall, and the darkness that lasts too long, even during summer nights.<br/>The road leads them south. They're not sure where it will end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baby teeth

 

* * *

 

 

The Defenders of the Forgotten

 

‘You are nobody’s hero. And nobody needs you. Desperately.’

 

By: pleasefindthis.

 

 

* * *

 

  **The road**

 

The cars slowly creep through the lush green country side, following in the wake of a roaring motorcycle. They pass over rolling hills, cut through abandoned one-horse towns while avoiding the bigger roads at all times. Sometimes the smaller vehicle disappears around corners, over horizons, but the rumbling sound of the engine always lingers in the stifling hot summer air.

One car suddenly stops, causing the other two to hit the brakes too. Dust is kicked up by wheels grinding to a halt. A horn sounds, just once, to summon the bike back.

The door of the first car opens. A man stumbles out. He puts his hands on his knees, doubling over like he’s going to be sick.

From the car, the sound of a hysterically crying child escapes.

A mighty roar and cloud of dust reintroduce the biker. He skids to a stop next to the other man and kills the engine. With a tug, he pulls down the scarf that had covered his nose and mouth. The brown hair is wind-swept, curling at the tips. He twists in his seat to check the fields surrounding them but it’s all clear.

The man next to him straightens, wiping sweat-damp hair out of his face and grimacing. ‘Remind me that I love her.’

‘Ya love her,’ the biker replies dryly.

The man groans, ‘she’s been crying like that since we left this morning. Do you have any idea what that’s like? Whéé _whéé_! God.’

The biker rubs at his nose to hide a smile. ‘What would you do if ya suddenly got teeth pokin’ through ya skin?’

‘I’m not saying it isn’t justified. I’m just complaining.’ He says and shakes his head a little. ‘How’s the bike?’

‘Good.’

The other man grins back, eyes twinkling, ‘I’m glad.’

‘ _Daryl_!’ Michonne climbs out of the car, cheeks flushed from the heat and sweat running down her elegant neck. She stumbles towards the bike, katana blinking in the sunlight. ‘I’ll take four of your night watches if you switch places with me!’

‘You don’t know how to ride a bike,’ Daryl points out while Benjamin laughs.

‘How hard can it be?’ she scoffs, but changes gears when the hunter snorts dismissively, ‘please, Daryl, I’m begging you.’

‘It’s worth plenty more than just four nights, anyway,’ Daryl says smugly as he strokes the engine. ‘’s a beauty.’

Michonne groans, ‘fine. Any chance you’ll let me ride with you then?’

Daryl eyes her for a second before scooting a bit closer to the handlebars, making room. ‘Hop on.’

‘ _What_?’ Benjamin yelps, outraged. ‘You’ll let us _ride_ with you? Are you fucking serious? I’ve been sitting in that baby-screams-hell-hole for the past five days and you never even offered us refuge on your blessedly loud wind-machine! Oh my god, are you fucking kidding me?’

Daryl smirks, ‘y’all didn’t ask.’

‘Because Abraham moved the bike out of sight the other day and nearly got an arrow in the ass for touching the damn thing!’

‘’s different.’

Benjamin looks affronted. He folds his arms and stares at the hunter. ‘You piece of shit.’

Michonne puts her katana on her back and walks up to the bike. With one hand on Daryl’s shoulder, she swings her leg over. The hunter guides her feet to the pegs, making sure her feet or calves won’t hit the hot exhaust pipe. She shifts a bit, trying to get comfortable and then nods at her friend and turns to Benjamin, ‘we’ll scout ahead, try to find a place for the night. Tell Rick to just keep going straight. Mark the road if you need to divert.’

‘Of course,’ Benjamin nods. ‘Keep an ear out for the horn. And be careful, okay?’ He looks a bit pained, ‘hold on to him,’ he says, nodding at the hands folded in her lap.

She puts her hands on Daryl’s shoulders.

Daryl moves them to his waist.

Benjamin frowns again. ‘I know he doesn’t have a lot of meat on him, but he’s not going to break, okay? Really _hold on_.’

She grips his sides, causing Daryl to smirk and rev the engine impatiently, ‘stop being such a pussy,’ he tells Benjamin, ‘we’ll be fine.’

Michonne laughs. She pushes one of her braids back behind her ear and Benjamin nearly has a heart attack.

‘ _Hold on_!’

‘We ain’t even movin’!’

‘Jesus,’ Michonne grins, gripping Daryl’s sides again. ‘Let’s just go, before he makes us find some helmets.’

The hunter flashes her a grin over his shoulder and tucks his scarf higher again so it covers his mouth and nose. Blue eyes meet green ones for a second as Benjamin backs away from the bike. He smiles a little, lifting his hand in a wave just as Daryl lets the bike kick up a cloud of dust, the back tire spinning before finding traction.

The loud roar of the engine doesn’t quite cover up Benjamin’s cursing as the blond ducks back towards the waiting cars.

Daryl grins at the noise which is now fading from his world. The sun beats down on them but the wind cools their skin and fills their ears with nothing but white noise.

 

 

It doesn’t take them long to find signs leading to an old camping ground. Some of the tents are torn down by the wind and weather, while others serve as traps for walkers. Their rotting feet and hands are tangled in the lines. Other walkers feed on their still-struggling limbs.

Daryl eases the bike past them, glancing at the mess of death before setting his sights on a wooden cabin at the edge of the property. He points to it and Michonne taps his shoulder in agreement. The soft growl of the bike, even at the low speed, causes some walkers to take notice, but they’d rather stick to their easy food source than track the bike down.

They park the bike in front of the cabin. Michonne deals with a couple of walkers which wander over from the nearby fields and closes some of the gates leading to the camping grounds. Daryl throws his crossbow over his shoulder and draws his knife before going up to the door. A hard kick sends it flying inwards. It bounces back to him, hinges creaking, and he pushes it out of the way again.

Nature has started to reclaim the building. Parts of the floor are covered in mold and grass. It smells. Daryl presses his nose into the crook of his elbow while gagging. Michonne just wrinkles her nose as she steps up beside him.

People died here, they know. There’s blood on the floorboards. A corpse is rotting in a corner. Michonne kicks it, but it doesn’t move.

With their knifes drawn, they venture through the rest of the building. In the hallways, they find a walker squashed by a nightstand. Daryl looks up the set of stairs and figures it must have been thrown from the landing.

The stairs are covered in blood and grime. Michonne nearly slips but Daryl manages to steady her with a quick hand. They make it to the top.

The first two rooms are empty. Simple bunkbeds remind Michonne of summer camps.

Daryl opens the last door. A family died here. Mother, father, little boy. The parents are nothing but corpses and dried blood. The little boy is sucking on one of his mother’s bones, rotting teeth crumbling when he bites down. He turns his head towards the door sluggishly. The eyes have rotten away completely. Daryl can see the bone of his eye sockets.

Tiny fingers reach out to him in desperation.

Daryl steps forward and drives his knife deep into the small skull. It unnerves him how easy the blade glides in. He remembers something about children’s skulls not being properly formed yet but shakes his head and looks around the room.

‘Looks like a good place,’ Michonne says as she brushes past her friend and kicks the bones of the parents, just to be sure. ‘We could spend the night in the other rooms.’

‘Yeah,’ Daryl agrees, though he wonders when graveyards became good places.

‘I’ll check the fences and secure the windows. You should go back for the others.’

‘We shouldn’t split up.’ He lights a cigarette and looks down the staircase.

‘I’ll be fine.’

‘I know. Still.’

She looks at him for a couple of seconds. Her face is as unreadable as ever. Emotions are always carefully shielded with glares and glowers, only occasionally breaking through in a smile or smirk. Sometimes he thinks he can see something in her eyes, in the way her shoulders slump or straighten, but most of the time he’s just guessing what she’s thinking. Maybe that’s part of why he likes her, because it’s like looking in a mirror sometimes.

‘Come on,’ he just grunts as he starts down the stairs. ‘It’s another ride, ain’t that what ya wanted?’

‘Sure.’

As they walk back down towards the bike, Michonne rummages in her backpack to pull out a canister. She tilts her head back and squirts something into her mouth before looking at Daryl again. ‘What? Want some?’ she holds the canister out to him. ‘It’s crazy cheese.’

‘’s disgustin’, is what it is.’

‘Says the man who smokes.’

 Daryl grunts again, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards in a secret smile. He brushes his brown hair out of his eyes, wiping it so it curls around his ears. Benjamin keeps saying how he needs a haircut. Stubbornness deters him from seeking Carol out or even from slapping a pair of scissors in Benjamin’s hands. He doesn’t mind the longer hair. Besides, he shaves some mornings, and that’s quite enough grooming during the apocalypse, he thinks.

He lingers near the bike, trying to make his smoke last. Michonne sits on the vehicle and looks out over the fields.

‘Ya alright?’ Daryl asks as he blows the smoke away from them, scuffing his boots on the floor. He doesn’t look at her.

‘Yeah,’ she answers. Sharp eyes focus on him. ‘Carl found it,’ she tilts the canister back and forth in her hand, shaking the contents. ‘He was out on a run with Benjamin. Came back, all smiles and stories.’

Daryl takes another drag from the cigarette, letting the smoke curl in his mouth and lungs. The nicotine feels like a high. The tobacco is scarce now, he tries to go cold turkey for a couple of days before lighting one up again, just to make the feeling hit home. He can feel it in his head, in his fingers, in his chest. It takes the edge off.

‘The library was good for us,’ Michonne muses, ‘while it lasted.’

‘Suppose.’

‘Luckily, we brought the best part of it with us.’ There’s a faint smile curling around her lips. He can’t quite tell whether it’s fond or mocking. ‘It’s strange,’ she continues, ‘I missed the road while we were cooped up in that big-ass building, but now… It was a good place.’

‘It was,’ Daryl says carefully. His tone implies that that place is gone for good, though. Of course, he too misses the illusion of safety the library had inspired, their carefree moments in the office, by the lake. He misses the chandeliers swinging in the breeze, the smell of books when he woke up, the comfort he found in the fact that his family was looked after.

But it’s gone now. They left it behind.

‘I know,’ Michonne says while looking at him. ‘We’ll find something else.’

Daryl nods, even though he doesn’t believe that. ‘This will do for tonight.’

She gives him a small smile and throws her leg over the bike. Then she pats the seat, ‘yeah, let’s go, detective.’

 

 

Watching the group pile out of the cars in front of the cabin reminds Daryl of one of those cheesy romance movies where a sleepy family arrives at their holiday destinations. Carl falls out first, stumbling clumsily and letting himself fall in the grass with a moan and groan. Rosita escapes the car second, jumping down next to the kid and breathing the fresh air in like a person drowning.

‘Dramatic much?’ Benjamin asks as he steps over them.

Carl only raises his hand to flip him off.

Daryl lift a questioning eyebrow at his blond friend.

‘Did you know,’ Benjamin starts with a tired smile, ‘that when babies are really upset, like, teeth-poking-through-skin upset, that they just… throw up. Out of misery? Or spite. I feel bad, you feel bad. They’re vindictive little things, let me tell you.’

‘Asskicker threw up?’

‘And not just the cute little baby sputtering either,’ Benjamin says while plonking down on the porch. ‘It was like Rick was suddenly holding a thousand pound sumo wrestler who’d had bad sushi.’

Daryl snorts and watches how Carol and Glenn get out of the other cars. Rick gets out of the car last. Judith isn’t screaming anymore, but she’s fuzzing against his shoulder. Her father looks dead on his feet.

‘Gimme her,’ Daryl murmurs, walking over to his friend and easily transferring the squirming bundle to his chest. ‘What’s all this, hmm?’ He coo’s softly, ‘ya been givin’ ya old man a hard time now? Ya shouldn’t go ‘round kickin’ _his_ arse, ‘s not why I gave you ya name, little girl. Stop smilin’. I’m straightenin’ ya out, missy.’

Rick laughs softly, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. He watches how his daughter settles into the strong arms of the hunter, curling up and seeking out his body warmth. ‘Traitor,’ he mutters before going over to check on his son.

‘Don’t ya listen to him,’ Daryl tells Judith. ‘He’s just mad ‘cause you threw up on him a bit and drove him crazy with ya screamin’. He loves ya, don’t ya worry ya pretty little head about that, huh.’

Benjamin closes his eyes and leans back against the cabin, ‘if I had ovaries, they’d be gone. Exploded. Sweet talking a little girl, accent suddenly times a hundred, oh man, oh man…’

Rosita snorts, ‘welcome to our world.’

‘Shut up,’ the hunter says without much heat as he looks down at his little charge. ‘Get off your lazy asses, the both of you. Make yourselves useful.’

The blond groans but gets up, joints cracking as he does. ‘Fine. Glenn,’ He pulls his knife out and lets it twirl on the palm of his hand before gripping it tightly, holding it up. The blade flashes in the sunlight. ‘We’ll need to do a quick sweep again, make sure nothing got inside in the mean while. Got my back?’

‘Yeah,’ the raven-haired man nods as he jogs over. ‘Right behind you, man.’

Daryl settles down on the porch. It’s hot. Sweat runs down his neck and arms. It doesn’t matter to him, his skin has tanned by now, hardened under the Southern sun but the little girl in his arms has red-hot cheeks. He grabs his water bottle and splashes some in his hand, wiping down her face to clear it of her dried tears and sweat. Then he lets her drink some, dribbling it into her mouth carefully.

Maggie sits down next to him. Her dark hair frames her face. She pushes it behind her ear and offers him a small smile. ‘I prayed all day for some of Beth’s magical baby skills, but she must have passed them to you.’

Daryl scoffs at that, ‘I had them first. I learned her all that.’

She laughs, bumping his shoulder lightly, ‘is that right? That also the reason you pass her off like a hot potato when she needs her diaper changed?’

The hunter grunts, ‘the stuff comin’ out? All that ain’t right. You hear that, little lady? It just ain’t right.’ He strokes her hair and then glances at Maggie, who’s grinning. ‘Shouldn’t her teeth have been out by now? I mean, she’s getting big.’

‘She’s a little late,’ Maggie agrees, ‘but it’s different with every child. Some get them early, some late. Daddy used to say I was born with teeth. A wild child from the start.’

‘I can see that,’ Daryl says.

The woman looks at him. The dark eyes search his face, but most of it is hidden by his bangs. The pale lips curl into a smile, recognizing the hidden compliment, ‘thanks.’

Daryl nods.

The door behind them opens and Glenn steps out into the sun. He takes a swing from his water bottle and throws some over his face, ‘all clear,’ he says when his wife looks at him expectantly. ‘I’m not sure whether it’s hotter inside or out here.’

Benjamin slips out of the cabin after him. He groans and pulls his shirt over his head, tying it to his belt. The dog-tags glisten in the sun as he stretches, muscles rippling under smooth, tanned skin. He rubs a lazy hand over his belly and then over his neck, wiping away some droplets of sweat. ‘Gross,’ he mutters before jumping down the porch and walking off towards Carol, who’s waiting by the cars.

‘Hey!’ Daryl gets up. Judith protests at the sudden movement but he shushes her with an apologetic kiss to her heated cheeks.

Benjamin throws a look over his shoulder and waits for him in the middle of the lawn. The blond hair is a mess of sweat, dirt and grease. ‘What’s up?’ he asks with an easy grin.

Daryl looks at Benjamin’s army boots, then squints up at the other man, ‘we okay?’

‘Yeah,’ the blond says, tugging at his dog-tags absent-mindedly. He glances around the lawn, checking up on the members of Daryl’s strange family. ‘’Course we are. Everyone’s fine. I mean, Judith is a bit hostile towards her new teeth and Noah had that stomach bug, but other than that? Yeah, we’re doing pretty good, I think.’

 ‘’s not what I meant.’

‘What did you mean then?’

Daryl looks away. The tips of his ears burn.

‘Ah,’ Benjamins stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rocks on the balls of his feet. ‘No. I mean, we’re fine. I gotta report for my daily driving lesson with Carol, okay?’

‘What?’

‘She’s teaching me how to drive,’ Benjamin tells him, scuffing his army boot as he kicks his left against the right. ‘Said it was important everyone knows how to. But mostly I just park the cars out of sight from the main road.’

‘I can teach you.’

Benjamin smiles, ‘nah, she got it.’

‘All right. See you at dinner?’

‘Watch duty,’ Benjamin says. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. ‘Gotta earn my stripes, right?’

Daryl glances at him from under his lashes and grunts, ‘suppose. Want me to bring you some food?’

‘Oh, no, I’ll be fine. Shit, Carol’s waving me over, I gotta go. See you around, gorgeous.’

Daryl watches how he runs off. He isn’t quite sure what to do or say. He knows it’s not supposed to be like this. A relationship, the start of dog, cubicle, barbeque. This is not how it’s supposed to go because they haven’t had a second to themselves since they hit the road and now the other seems to be avoiding him. He doesn’t understand why Benjamin hasn’t come to him for driving lessons, why they don’t keep watch together anymore like they had done on top of the library or why Benjamin keeps finding excuses to leave. The nicknames have stuck, but that’s just a habit, he supposes. It doesn’t mean anything.

He turns on his heels and stalks back over to Maggie. ‘Can ya take Judith?’

‘Let me guess,’ she says, ‘it’s diaper-time?’ She rolls her eyes but holds out her hands to take the little girl.

‘Nah, I’m going out to hunt.’

Glenn frowns, ‘but it’s already evening, it’ll be dark soon.’

‘Think I don’t know that, Korea?’ Daryl snaps.

‘I was just saying…’

‘Well, don’t!’ He takes a couple steps back and light a cigarette before throwing his crossbow over his shoulder, pulling the strap snug over his chest before heading over towards the woods. He jumps over a fence at the edge of the land and disappears between the trees.

 

 

Hushed voices wake Daryl. It’s only been an hour since he’d found the spot at the back of the room, on the ground near the window, and he’d been asleep for mere minutes before the rude awakening of someone entering the room.

‘Oh shit, sorry, Jesus it’s dark in here. Hot too, is that your arm or just a sleeve, oh, fuck, I can’t see shit.’

‘Someone make him shut up, please,’ Rick grumbles before shifting in the bed, turning his back on the noise.

‘ _He_ is right here, thank you very much,’ Benjamin whispers back, ‘nobody attack me, please. I’ll be quiet once I,’ he reaches the back of the room and his eyes finally adjust to the darkness, ‘never mind. Found a spot. Goodnight y’all.’

‘Night Ben,’ Rosita mumbles from her top bunk while Michonne flicks him off in the dark.

Benjamin throws his backpack against the wall and sinks down on the floor. Daryl wishes he’d be less surprised that the other man chose the spot beside him. ‘Oh man,’ the blond groans as he stretches. ‘Why don’t we have a matrass? Seriously, as soon as one of them has guard duty, we’re sneaking into their spot.’

Daryl huffs and turns his back on his friend, ‘wouldn’t even fit us both.’

Benjamin rummages around for a second as he tries to get comfortable. ‘Hey, what the- why am I looking at the back of your head?’

‘’Cause I’m tryin’ to sleep.’

‘Oh. I’m going to bitch and moan about that in a second, just giving you a heads up,’ the blond whispers as he takes his knife off his belt. ‘You never sleep on your right side, why start now? I brushed my damn teeth, that can’t be it, so…’

Daryl turns around, glaring, ‘what the fuck do you want me to do?’

‘You could start by telling me what’s wrong.’ Benjamin pushes his weapons away from him and then settles back down again.

Daryl bites down on his thumb. A nervous habit. ‘If ya want out, ya can just say so.’

‘Out? Out of what?’

He works his jaw, ‘high school. Facebook. All that.’

Benjamin thinks for a second, ‘you think I want to bail out of _us_?’

‘Hmm.’

‘Well, I don’t.’

Daryl grunts, ‘all right then,’ he sighs and turns around again.

There’s a beat of silence. Benjamin waits for him to say something, to explain himself, but there’s nothing. He listens to Daryl’s too-fast breathing, can practically feel the angry vibes coming from the hunter. He doesn’t want to do this here, where half of their family will wake up if they start a discussion now. ‘We’re going to talk about this,’ he whispers to Daryl’s back, ‘tomorrow morning, first thing after breakfast. I missed dinner, so I’m fucking starving. But after that, we need to talk.’

‘Fine. Shut the fuck up.’

Benjamin sets his jaw before rolling over to his side, ‘and good night to you too, Daryl.’


	2. Rules and regulations

 

* * *

 

 

Breakfast is a tense affair. Everyone seems to pick up on the fact that there is something wrong within the group, even though Benjamin pretends that all is well. He sits on one of the couches and chews on his food while listening to Rosita, who tells him about her childhood. The rest of the group is sitting at the long tables on the other side of the room.

There’s a deliberate empty spot next to Daryl. Benjamin had decided not to take it.

The hunter tries to ignore the sudden burst of laughter behind him. There’s an anger he can’t quite explain coiling in the pit of his stomach. He’s not sure whether he feels lost or betrayed or abandoned, or all of that at once. All he knows is that he doesn’t like it.

Carol is sitting opposite him. She’s been observing him all morning, waiting for the right opportunity to say something.

Daryl gets sick of waiting. ‘What,’ he snaps and he shoves the plate away from him. He has hardly eaten anything.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothin’.’

She cocks her head to the side with a pitying look in her eye. ‘Don’t do this.’

‘Do what? Why don’t ya mind ya own damn business, lady,’ he says as he gets up. ‘Stop poking your nose where it doesn’t belong!’ He stalks away, boots wreaking havoc on the wooden floor, and bumps into Rick, just as the sheriff enters the room.

‘Hey, hey,’ Rick says, immediately spotting the anger in his posture and eyes. His arms are up, hands on Daryl’s shoulders, not holding on but pushing him back softly, little bumps to create distance between them. ‘Hold up. Calm down.’

‘What the fuck do _you_ want?’

Rick glances at Carol, who stood up and looks sorry, and his face hardens. ‘Go outside and check the fences,’ he tells the hunter.

‘You askin’ or tellin’?’

‘Telling.’ Rick steps up to him, into his personal space, faces inches apart. He lowers his gaze, looking at the floor before glancing up at his friend. ‘You got a problem with that?’

Daryl’s right hand curls into a fist.

Rick sees it. ‘Do we need to step outside?’ He leans in even closer, whispering the words between them, showing that he isn’t scared of his brother. Behind him, Michonne rises cautiously, her hands on Carl’s shoulders to keep him in his seat.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl can see how Benjamin slowly rises too. The shoulders are relaxed, his head cocked to the side as if he’s trying to figure this situation out. He looks at Carol, possibly trying to catch her eye.

The hunter looks back at Rick. Blue eyes meet. Rick lift his eyebrows, shifting on the spot and tilting his head as if he’s waiting for an answer. Daryl can barely remember the question.

‘Nah, man,’ he says. It takes some effort to relax his posture into something less threatening. He looks away and then shoulders past Rick, ‘ain’t got no problem with nothin’.’

The sheriff lets him pass without another comment. He steps aside and watches how the hunter walks off.

Daryl can’t help but be relieved when he hears Rick’s voice say ‘let him be for a minute’. He’s not sure who got up to follow him, Benjamin or maybe Michonne, or Carol. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to talk to them anyway.

Instead, he walks the fences like Rick ordered him to. They’re too low to keep any walkers out. One of them has gotten a long way up to the cabin, snarling and dragging his body forward. Abraham is on guard duty. He watches as the thing comes closer, a knife already in his hands, but Daryl loads his bow and takes the shot from afar. It goes down with a pathetic groan.

Abraham shrugs, gesturing at his knife.

Daryl nods and retrieves his bolt, keeping the skull down with his boot as he pulls it out. ‘I’ll check the back.’

‘I just checked it.’

He ignores the comment and walks down towards the fence, following it as it rounds the cabin. There are only corpses. Their skulls are bashed in by Abraham’s force. He sits down on the low fence, staring out over the camping site. A couple of walkers are still trapped in the tents. Their snarls have dwindled down to a faint background noise. Most of their legs and arms have been eaten away. They don’t form a threat.

Others wander along the edges of the fields, on the other side. They’re too far away to take down with the crossbow.

So instead, he sits and waits, crossbow in his lap as he lights a cigarette.

The quiet only emphasizes his own thoughts. The strangeness of the situation hits him again. He’s mad at Benjamin for ditching his ass like this. He’s not quite sure what he’d expected, but he certainly hadn’t thought that the other man’s obsession would have lasted mere days. Now, they hardly talk or see each other. He supposes he’d just gotten used to the incessant chatter, the easy smiles and presence of the other man.

He’s mad at himself for missing it already.

Merle’s past leers crawl up is skin, mess with his head, tug at his heart. _Red-neck trash. No-one’s ever going to care. Grow up._

He lets the cigarette dangle from his bottom lip and scratches at the dirt under his nails.

Nothing changed, he supposes. Benjamin’s just another stray they picked up, like Michonne and Noah had been. Another mouth to feed.

He takes another drag. The ashes land on his dirty jeans. He doesn’t brush it off. Doesn’t care.

He’s an idiot for thinking this would be different, that this time someone would choose to stay. And stay with _him_.

When he reaches the filter, he flexes his hand and ends the cigarette on the back of it.

‘Please don’t do that.’

‘When are you people goin’ to learn to mind ya own damn business?’ He glances at his right, from where Benjamin is approaching. The sniper rifle is slung onto his back, the straps crossing his chest and his grey hoodie hides his blond hair. A faint smile curls around the pale lips, muscle memory, because the eyes are dull and soulless.

He walks up to the fence and leans against it. The dog-tags aren’t hidden beneath his shirt today. Daryl catches the name on the metal, but already knows it by heart.

‘I think we need to talk,’ Benjamin says.

‘Isn’t that all you do?’

The blond lets his head hang for a moment. Then he looks up again. ‘Can you drop the act, please?’

‘Like how you did?’

‘Excuse me?’

Daryl shakes his head and looks out over the fields.

‘Hey,’ Benjamin rounds on him, ‘I don’t know what your problem is but you better spit it out now, gorgeous, because I just don’t know anymore, okay? I don’t know where I’ve gone wrong and I don’t know how to fix it. There’s no one around. No one’s looking or listening. It’s just _us_. So just tell me. Tell me how to fix this.’

‘What’re you talkin’ about, fixin’ this,’ Daryl growls. He lets himself slide off the fence so he falls onto his feet. ‘Ain’t nothin’ to fix, man!’

Benjamin lifts an eyebrow, ‘yeah, because _clearly_ we’re in a happy, loving, good relationship at the moment.’

‘I don’t need this,’ Daryl snaps as he tries to get away, but Benjamin grabs him by the shoulder, putting him back on his spot.

‘No. _I_ don’t need this. _We_ don’t need this! Let me reconstruct all this,’ Benjamin waves between the two of them, ‘okay, and you just point out where it all went to shit, yeah? Because we started off like damsel in distress and-‘ He laughs when Daryl glares, ‘whoa, okay, we started off as tentative enemies, as one does during the apocalypse, but then I was all: _damn, he looks fine_ , and you were all; _get your paws off of me!_ My irresistible charm won you over though. A bit. More than a bit in the end, right?’

Daryl sets his jaw and looks away.

‘ _Right_?’

‘ _Right_ , Jesus,’ Daryl snaps back when Benjamin jostles his arm. His fingers itch for another cigarette.

‘So we were all happy as can be, making out a bit, laughing a lot and suddenly it’s all “shut the fuck up” and “Talk to the back of my head because I can’t be arsed to turn around”.’

Daryl looks at his friend with disbelief, ‘ya pinnin’ this on _me_?’

Benjamin frowns, ‘well, I’m not the one who’s telling their significant other to fuck off, now am I?’

‘No, you’re just too damn scared to tell me that you want out, ain’t that right? Huh?’ Daryl pushes his friend away from him. ‘All that talk and now no words to tell me it was just a scam to get into the group? Well you’re in, so no reason to pretend anymore, all right?’

The blond frowns again, confused, ‘what are you-‘

‘Here I was, tryin’ to make a damn _effort_.’ He spits the word out like it’s something vile. ‘Offerin’ to learn you how to drive, bringin’ ya food ‘round, offerin’ to keep ya company, ‘n all you’ve done is blow me off. Ain’t just been yesterday either, ‘s been all damn week ya tell me to fuck off! Believe it or not, I’m not too stupid to take a fuckin’ hint, all right?’

Benjamin closes his eyes with a soft groan, ‘oh my God…’

‘What?’ Daryl can feel his ears burning. Even his cheeks are too hot. He’s blushing, but the anger still wins from the embarrassment. ‘Might be back-road trash, but I ain’t stupid!’

‘Stop, no,’ Benjamin steps forward, ‘that’s not what you are at all. Let me tell you what you are, besides drop-dead gorgeous, fifty shades of hot and my favorite bad-ass art-geek, okay? You are the reason why I’m here. I just didn’t want that to become the only reason why I’m allowed to stay. So I thought if I’d integrate a bit more, stop relying on you for everything, you wouldn’t…’ He shrugs and looks away, ‘wouldn’t come to see me as some needy bitch that’s following you around everywhere.’

‘I done told you, you’ll know when I start to get sick of ya.’

The blond guy snorts, ‘and I already told you; find a drink or a shrink. Seriously, you thought I was over my sickening crush? You didn’t catch all those romantic stares I’ve been giving you?’

‘Nah man,’ Daryl says, ‘didn’t catch nothing.’

‘They were probably more creepy predatory looks, anyway. Or pathetic ones. I’m not even sure. Anyway, I’m still crushing hard on you. Just wanted to make that clear.’ He kicks his feet, letting the heels bang against the wood with a soft thud. He steps closer to the hunter, green eyes much too bright and lips too pale. ‘You think just because we haven’t had an actual conversation in three days, I haven’t kissed you in five, and you don’t let me ride on the motorcycle with you, makes us somehow not okay? Dude, we’re Facebook official during the apocalypse. I think you’re underestimating what that means.’ He looks away for a second, all smiles and smirks, ‘or have you gone behind my back and kissed a well-preserved walker? I told you: we’re exclusive, man.’

‘Gross.’

‘That’s not a no!’

Daryl huffs out a breath of laughter, aiming a kick at his friend, ‘stop.’

‘Make me,’ Benjamin grins and then sobers up. ‘We need to work on our communication skills, this is pathetic. We’re never going to reach the barbeque stage this way. I think it’s difficult right now because I’m not exactly sure what the rules are. I mean, we’re sort of hiding it from your family, but, like, everyone _kinda_ knows already and I’m just not sure what I can and can’t do…’

‘Ain’t _hidin’_ …’

‘What would you call it then,’ Benjamin asks with a laugh.

‘Privacy,’ Daryl snaps, ‘havin’ one fuckin’ thing for yourself in this damn place.’

‘Ooh,’ Benjamin leers, ‘possessive! I like it. Oh stop glaring. You shouldn’t let me wind you up so easily.’

They sit side by side for a while. The sun is rising over the tree tops. Daryl loads his crossbow. It’s tricky to keep his balance and pull the string back at the same time, but he manages to slide the bolt in place without toppling off and making an ass out of himself. He shoots a walker in the eye. Benjamin whistles, impressed.

Daryl tries not to look too smug.

‘It kind of bugs me that our relationship is defined by what other people might think or do.’

Daryl glances at his friend. He’s not so sure what to do with that information. In the end, he just shrugs.

‘You know they’re cool with it, right? Except Gabriel, but I kind of got the feeling he’s not really… He’s not like Rick or Glenn.’

‘No, he ain’t.’

‘So fuck him. I mean, Carol’s fine with it too, Mags, Mich, Rick, all of them.’

Daryl scratches at his cheek, ‘this ain’t about them.’

Benjamin frowns and kicks his feet again, heavy army boots thudding against the wood. ‘It’s the reason why I’ve been trying to keep my distance, because I thought you didn’t want them to know or, I don’t know, see.’

‘Yeah, well, just because I don’t want ya jumpin’ my bones in front of my family, doesn’t mean…’ Daryl stops abruptly.

Benjamin’s grin turns positively devilish, ‘doesn’t mean you don’t want me jumping your bones. Right? _Right_?’

‘Shut up.’ The hunter looks away. His ears burn.

‘Fine, fine,’ the blond laughs. He jumps off the fence and rounds on his friends, pushing the knees apart so he can step between them. His warm hands rub over the slim hips as he leans in and rests his forehead on Daryl’s collarbone. ‘I get that it’s weird for you to discuss all this.’

Daryl snorts. He wraps one arm around Benjamin’s shoulders, keeping the crossbow balanced on the fence with his free hand. He breathes the other in, letting his chin rest on the top of the blond’s head.

‘Let’s make some rules,’ Benjamin murmurs into his skin. ‘I go first.’

‘That’s cheatin’.’

‘But it’s my idea! You get to veto, don’t worry. All right,’ Benjamin leans back a little. His right hand comes up to brush Daryl’s hair out of his face. ‘There you are. Let me think. Something do and don’t’s like. Okay, how’s this; I don’t get to kiss you in front of your family, but I do get to sleep next to you.’

‘Fine. I get to hunt on my own.’

‘And?’ the blond prompts with an expectant look.

Daryl frowns and looks away. ‘This is such bullshit. Lemme break it down for ya, all right? Don’t touch me in front of other people. That’s it. All the other stuff is fine.’

Benjamin cocks his head to the side, ‘so I get to sit next to you during dinner?’

‘Sure.’

‘Lunch?’

‘Whatever.’

‘Breakfast too?’

Daryl pushes his knees together, squeezing Benjamin’s waist, ‘fucking saved you a seat this morning, asshole.’

‘You’re such a romantic. Be still my heart!’

‘Shut up.’

Benjamin laughs and turns around. He leans back against Daryl, his back against the hunter’s chest, his elbows resting on his thighs. He sighs. ‘ _A morning-glory at my window satisfies me more than the metaphysics of books_. Walt Whitman.’

‘I don’t know what that means,’ Daryl says. His breath ghosts over the blond hair and the tip of a right ear.

‘Sometimes I say things just to say them. I remembered them, might as well throw them out there. Flash my intellect a bit.’ Benjamin flashes him a grin. ‘It’s bullshit anyway. For me, at least. Can I tell you something crazy?’

‘Hmh.’

‘Before the outbreak I’d never seen the sun rise.’

Daryl grins, nudging the side of his friend’s head with his nose. ‘City boy.’

‘Yup. Still proud. I saw it a lot while I was at the library though.’

‘And did ya like it?’

‘No.’

Daryl laughs softly. ‘Why’s that?’

‘I found out that part of seeing the sun rise experience consists of getting up early. Or staying up really late, but that leads to a whole other hot mess.’

That earns him a barking laugh, low and from deep in Daryl’s chest. ‘All that education and still no common sense.’

‘ _Now here I am, a fool for sure! No wiser than I was before_. Faust.’ Benjamin reaches back to grab one of Daryl’s wrists. He pulls at it until the hunter drapes his arm over the blond’s shoulder and chest. Fingertips ghost over a beating heart, expanding ribcage, rippling muscles.

They lapse into silence again as they watch the sun rise. Benjamin runs his fingers over one of Daryl’s knees, the gesture absent-minded and without intent. Daryl’s fingers wrap around the chain of the dog tags, the small metal plates warmed by his body heat. He rubs his thumb over them, feeling the name, blood group and date of birth. He tries not to think about how young she was.

‘It’s beautiful out here.’

Daryl snorts, eyeing the corpses rotting in the fields beyond. The walker a couple of feet from them with an arrow stuck in its eye.

‘What are you laughing at?’ His friends asks. ‘We got that damn sunrise going on and _we_ could totally feature on the front page of, I don’t know, Apocalypse Times, National Surviving, or Play Walkers, because you’re all hot and handsome and I… I brushed my teeth this morning.’

Amusement causes one of the corners of Daryl’s mouth to turn upwards. ‘Did ya now?’

‘Yup.’ Benjamin turns around, baring his teeth for a second. ‘I think I could be a professional model, based on that fact. You handsome? No, but I brush every morning and every night. Beat that, Chris Hemsworth. Sexiest man alive, 2014,’ he adds promptly when Daryl frowns in confusion. ‘They took a vote, but I don’t think they knew you were alive too, gorgeous.’

‘Or you.’

The words escape him. He can’t take them back, doesn’t exactly want to because Benjamin turns around, eyes the brightest of greens and smile more stunning than the sun rising behind him, but Daryl still cringes because he’s not used to the way the eyes light up at the compliment. He expects a mocking comment, a cruel jab, but instead gets a sincere; ‘thank you.’

He nods because he doesn’t know what to say to that.

Benjamin solves that by wrapping a hand around the back of his neck and dragging him into a kiss.

He _has_ brushed his teeth. Daryl can taste the tang of mint on his own tongue when he opens his mouth hungrily for Benjamin’s. There are hands on his hips, ghosting over his stomach, tracing abs up to the broad chest, curling around his shoulders. Benjamin is all angles and heat. His hips are bony where they dig into Daryl’s thighs.

Daryl pushes the younger man back and slides off the fence so they’re the same height again. He backs the blond up against the wood, slipping one of his legs between Benjamin’s so their bodies are pressed flush together.

‘Oh God,’ Benjamin moans, ‘fucking finally.’

Daryl grins into the kiss. His left hand disappears in the blond hair, tugging at the strands and cradling the skull.

Benjamin grinds against him, pulling him even closer. His breathing quickens, ‘you’re so fucking hot.’ His fingers find the bottom of Daryl’s shirt, pushing it up to his midriff, hands roaming over his belly. Nails scrape over scars.

Daryl stills.

Benjamin leans back, lips kiss-swollen and wet. He licks them, eyes flickering between Daryl’s lips and his eyes. ‘What? God,’ he nips at the lower lip, ‘I hate to break it to you, man, but we’ve been living together in the library for weeks. If you think I haven’t snuck a peek, you’re fucking crazy. Sorry, not sorry. I’ve seen the scars, okay? All of them. Jesus, relax already, it’s no big deal.’

‘ _No big deal_? Fuck off,’ Daryl grouses as he tries to push his friend away.

‘No, stop, I’m sorry.’ Benjamin takes a small step backwards, raising his hands slightly. ‘I’m sorry, Daryl.’ The use of his actual name is enough of a surprise for the hunter to stop short for a second. ‘I didn’t mean for it to sound… I’m not downplaying it, man, I just… I don’t care, okay? I’ve seen them a million times. Not literally, of course. I mean, I haven’t been creepily staring at you while you were asleep, so it can’t have been a million, more like fifty or something…’ He blinks a little. ‘Err. Well. I mean I haven’t _actively_ caused your shirt to ride up so I could sneak a peek, _I haven’t_!’ He insist when Daryl lifts an eyebrow. ‘I swear I haven’t!’

‘Hmm-mmm.’

Benjamin laughs and hides his face in the crook of his elbow for a second. ‘I’m going to go back inside and die of embarrassment.’

‘All right.’

‘Oh my God,’ his friend laughs, ‘thanks for that. I’m glad I’ll be missed. Kiss?’

Daryl glances at him and lifts his chin a bit higher.

Benjamin leans in and kisses him. ‘See you inside,’ he murmurs when he steps back again. The pale cheeks are flushed. ‘Say something nice at my funeral.’

The hunter snorts dismissively, ‘fuckin’ city-slicker.’

Benjamin tosses him a grin over his shoulder, ‘that’ll do,’ he laughs. He walks back to the front of the cabin, sniper riffle on his back and his hand on his knife. ‘That’ll do just nicely. Hey!’

Daryl shifts on the fence so he can look back at him.

‘I meant it, you know, about the…’ Benjamin motions at his abdomen, ‘I don’t care. I know it’s difficult for you, and I’m fine with avoiding it all, we don’t have to talk about it and I won’t touch them, but…. That won’t be for me, okay? Because I don’t care.’

‘Fine. Thought you were going inside and die.’

‘Don’t sound so eager,’ Benjamin laughs before giving him a small wave and disappearing inside.

Daryl turns back to the sprawling fields. He hops off the fence and walks over to the walker he’d taken down. His boot on a softening skull, that dreadful sucking noise as he pulls the bolt out. He wipes rotting brain-matter off the shaft and looks up at the sunrise. 

Fucking beautiful, he thinks. Damn Yankee was right.


	3. Lies and delusions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A surprise update! This series was my nanowrimo novel, and I just won so I thought a little celebration was in order.  
> Thanks for all the support, it makes me ridiculously happy.

 

* * *

 

 

 

From that morning on, Benjamin is a steady presence at his side. He’s all smiles and light-hearted jokes as well as a flashing knife out of the corner of Daryl’s eye. The familiarity of the laughter, their shoulders brushing, eyes meeting across to room slowly integrates into Daryl’s system. He learns the difference between Benjamin’s real and fake laugh, what that rare grimace of discomfort means and what makes him go silent for a couple of minutes.

They’re not joined at the hip, however. Daryl still goes out hunting alone and Benjamin spends many nights hanging out with Rosita and Tara, and he goes on runs with Glenn and Carl. When they get back, they still check in with each other. Daryl will saunter by, the blood of his recent kill still on his hands and clothing, with his chin dipping down in a curt nod at his friend. And Benjamin will still rush up to him, all stories and excited chatter about the new stuff they’d found on their raids.

They can often be found in a corner of a room, chatting amicably while Daryl repairs his bolts and Benjamin reads a book he’s found. Carol joins them often, as does Michonne and Rick.

He knows it must be difficult for Benjamin to find his place in the group. Gabriel still makes snide comments, but no one pays him any mind. He tries to help out where he can, on runs mostly, and he’s always the first to go in and clear a new building. Cooking is not his forte, but Sasha lets him sit with her while she cooks just so she has something to listen to. He’s better than the radio used to be, she decides.

It’s not always that easy. One afternoon, they’re leaning against the car. It’s hot and everyone is agitated. Benjamin scuffs his boots on the hot asphalt while Daryl gnaws on the nail of his thumb. Glenn is sitting on his hunches, leaning back against a tire, while Maggie and Carol sit on the ground. Rick stalks back and forth, glaring at the world.

‘We need to keep going,’ he says. ‘Push farther South.’

‘We’re going to lose the light,’ Glenn sighs. They’ve been having this argument every single afternoon for the past week. It’s wearing them out.

‘This is no place to stop.’

‘We’re in the middle of nowhere,’ Carol answers, ‘there isn’t a good place to stop. We can sleep in the cars.’

‘Sitting ducks.’ Rick points out. He looks at Daryl.

‘We gotta move on,’ the hunter agrees. ‘Push forward, we’ve still got a few hours.’

‘Not enough fuel,’ Maggie says. ‘What if we get stranded somewhere worse? Or pass cars that still hold good fuel?’

Rick gives her a nod and shrug, clearly unsure of what the best approach is.

Everyone looks at Benjamin.

The blond is staring out over the road. Eyes distant. He snaps back to focus when he notices that everyone else has fallen silent. ‘Sorry, what?’ he asks sheepishly.

Rick shifts his weight, glaring again. ‘What do you think we should do?’

Benjamin shrugs, ‘I don’t know.’

‘Of course you do,’ Glenn says. He holds a hand over his eyes, shielding them from the sun so he can look up at the blond man. ‘Spit it out.’

Benjamin looks uncomfortable. He rubs at his jaw, tugs at the dog-tags and then glances at the hunter next to him. ‘Whatever you guys think is best, I mean… I’m… I’m with Daryl on this.’

Carol frowns, ‘you want to push farther South? Drive through the night?’

‘Well,’ Benjamin starts and then falters, swallowing his words. ‘I suppose. If that’s what you decide…’

Rick makes a throw-away gesture and turns his back on the group. Glenn sighs and drops his head into his hands.

Daryl frowns and grabs Benjamin’s upper arm. He hauls him away from the group with a muttered ‘we’ll be right back.’ The blond struggles a bit but eventually follows him meekly into the woods. When they’re obscured by a couple of trees, Daryl rounds on him. ‘What’re ya playin’ at?’

Benjamin grimaces. ‘I don’t know! It’s just… I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes here. I mean, you know, I’m not really part of the group and all, so…’

‘What?’

‘Noah’s been here longer than I have, and Gabe, Tara, Rosita. I don’t want to go all, _blaah_ ,’ he pretends to vomit and Daryl lift an eyebrow, ‘with my opinions on everything, because I don’t feel like I have the right to just go around and say; ooh, I think we should do this and that!’ He frowns, ‘know what I mean?’

‘No.’

‘Don’t be a dick.’

Daryl snorts, hitching his brow higher. ‘Then stop being such a pussy.’

‘Your play with words is truly inspiring.’

The hunter laughs as he shakes his hair out of his face. ‘Thanks. Rick asked for your opinion, is all. Don’t read too much into it. You should grab the opportunity, it isn’t always a democracy.’

‘Fine. I’m sorry, I was being considerate.’

‘You’re forgiven.’

Now it’s Benjamin’s time to laugh. He runs a hand through his hair, ‘okay. Let’s go back before Rick leaves my ass behind for being so damn nice. Kiss?’

Daryl kisses him. A chaste brush of lips, rough fingers tracing the strong jawline for a second. ‘And if you say “I’m with Daryl” one more time when ya’re not, ya get an arrow in the ass.’

The blond gives him an outraged look. ‘How do you know I’m not?’

Daryl rolls his eyes and starts leading them back. ‘I know ya.’ When he glances over his shoulder after a couple of moments of silence, he catches Benjamin’s wide grin.

They rejoin the group seconds later. Daryl slides onto the hood of the car, his boots on the license plate and hands on warmed metal. His crossbow probably scratches the paintjob, but he doesn’t care. From behind his hair, he observes his little family.

Benjamin sits down besides Maggie. They shift so they can sit back to back, leaning against each other. Her head tips back to rest on his shoulder.

‘Well?’ Rick demands. He looks at Daryl first, but the hunter already voiced his opinion on the matter and won’t repeat himself so eventually Rick turns to Benjamin.

‘I think we should stay here. Get off the road, wait it out. If we come across any cars, it’ll be easier to get the gas with daylight. Safer too. Everyone is tired because of the heat. We should take it slow, maybe use the rest of the afternoon to come up with a game plan. “South” really isn’t a motivating objective. It never gets any closer.’ He plucks at the fraying hem of his jeans and squints up at the former sheriff.

Daryl has to agree with the last part. They’d left the library before they had any concrete plans about where they were going. The south is far and wide, it’s everywhere and nowhere. They follow the sun only because memories of harsh winters frighten them. They want to avoid the barren land they left behind, the hunger which almost caused his own downfall, and the darkness lasts too long, even during these summer nights.

Rick looks pensive. The south has been his motivation to get going, to keep pushing forward but he knows they have to formulate a plan soon. The road to nowhere is always far too long.

‘All right.’

Glenn’s head snaps up from where it had been resting on his hand. Drowsy eyes blink back to alertness.

Rick puts his hands on his belt. ‘We’ll park the cars out of sight, set up camp. We’ll need two guards at all times. It seems quiet, but we know that can change. Glenn, get the maps. Daryl, you’re with me.’ He stalks away.

Daryl slides off the car and falls in step besides him.

 

 

 ‘It’s haunted. I can feel it in my bones,’ Benjamin murmurs. He cocks his head to the side and bites down on a knuckle of his right hand. ‘Abandoned house in the middle of the woods. No road signs, no number, no front door, what the fuck happened to that anyway? What kind of walker steals a front door? This is creeping me out. This is how I die.’

‘Maybe we can stay a while,’ Rosita tells him happily.

The blond glances at her, ‘ _this is how I die_ , I said!’

‘And what a great last resting place it is,’ the woman nods before skipping down the path towards the large house.

‘Rose!’ Benjamin hisses. He glances over his shoulder to the track they followed. There’s no one there. The others are way out by the road, at least an half hour walk back the way they came. The two of them had been send out to find a water source. The supplies are going fast with the heat, even though they ration it. It hasn’t rained in weeks. Rosita has been promising to teach him how to make water filters but now they’ve stumbled on an abandoned house. ‘Wait up!’

They’re too close to back out now, he supposes. With a fluent move, he draws both his knife and his gun. He’s right handed, so the gun rests on top of his knife-wielding left as he jogs to catch up with the girl.

The house seems to loom over them. It’s an old country estate, complete with rising pillars and large windows. The curtains are drawn which means they can’t look inside as they pass by silently. Shivers run up Benjamin’s spine, causing his hands to shake slightly. He grips his gun tighter.

Rosita glances at him. There’s doubt in her eyes but she gestures for him to stay behind her and aims a kick at the doorpost. It echoes through the building and slowly dies in the hallways. Everything stays silent.

Benjamin steps past the girl, entering the house cautiously. He side-steps into the living room. Someone definitely used to live here, even after the outbreak. There are mattresses on the floor, heaps of blankets and empty tin cans. Everything is covered in dust, though. They must have left a long time ago.

He glances around before moving on to the next room.

‘ _Ben_!’

Rosita’s call has him running back to the hallway, going right this time, through another living room and into the dining room.

Rosita is standing in the door opening.

‘What?’ Benjamin asks, grabbing her shoulders, ‘are you okay? What’s wrong?’

Her eyes are wide but dull and her tone is unbearably flat when she finally answers him. ‘They left us a message. Look.’

One of the walls of the dining area has been cleared of paintings and photographs. They’re all in pieces on the floor. Expensive canvasses ripped apart, some bearing the prints of heavy boots while others are nothing but small pieces of fabric, scattered on the floor. They’d been taken down to make room for a sickening display.

A man is nailed to the wall. He’s nothing but rotting flesh and ragged clothing, not really human, but somehow still alive enough to lift his head and snarl viciously. He tries to grab at the two visitors in the doorway, but glinting nails in his wrists prevent him. There are bloodstains on the walls where the nails had entered.

Benjamin gags. He had been alive when it had happened.

Rosita takes a tentative step into the room. ‘Rich asshole wouldn’t share. We will. Go South. The beginning is not far now.’

‘What?’ Benjamin tears his gaze from the pinned walker. Rosita points at the wall again. The words are written in dried blood, probably taken from the guy. There’s an arrow which points down. He looks at the floor. There are four gallons of water beneath the arrow and a plastic box. With a frown, he jumps over the wreckage of the paintings to reach the supplies. ‘What the hell? What do you think it means? _The beginning is not far now_?’

‘I don’t know,’ Rosita says softly. She glances around. ‘Think they’re around? Whoever did this?’

‘Don’t think so,’ he mutters as he looks around. ‘I mean, I’m no sniffer dog, or, you know, _Daryl_ … but, I don’t think so. There’s dust everywhere, even on these supplies.’

Rosita looks around the room and finds the nail gun which was used on the man. She takes the heavy machine and walks over the shattered art towards the wall. The shot rings out. Benjamin glances over his shoulder to see that the skull of the walker has split open due to the force of the nail.

‘Fucking gross.’

‘Yup,’ Rosita throws the machine back onto the table. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

‘We should check out the rest of the place,’ Benjamin says as he puts his backpack on the floor. ‘I’ll carry this, I’m not sure what to do with it. Think it’s safe?’

‘I don’t know. Are they still sealed?’

‘Yeah, but they still could have messed with it in some other way. I don’t know. Shit. Maybe I’m just being too paranoid. Why would anyone leave poisoned water behind after tacking a human being to a wall?’

‘Sick world out there.’

‘Sick world,’ Benjamin agrees, ‘but there’s still good people. They’re into sharing, how bad can it be?’

Rosita lifts an eyebrow, ‘they tacked a guy to the wall _._ Probably _while he was still alive_.’

‘I know. Stop freaking me out, girl.’

She laughs a little at that as she watches how Benjamin puts the supplies in his backpack and then slings it onto his back, shuffling a little to get it comfortable again. He draws his knife and gestures towards the next room. She nods.

Together they clear the kitchen, which has been ransacked, and the other rooms. Then Benjamin starts up the stairs. He looks back half-way, ‘mind guarding our exit? I don’t think there’s anything upstairs, I’ll be fine, but if we do need to make a run for it, or anyone comes back…’

Rosita nods and turns towards the front door. ‘I got it.’

‘Thank you, my love, my life, my darling!’ He sing-song as he moves up.

‘Suck-up.’

‘My favorite watcher-of-backs, you are!’

‘Just hurry up!’

He grins as he steps onto the landing, his knife in his hands but the gun still tucked in the holster. There isn’t any noise coming out of any of the rooms so he doubts there are any walkers locked in. The first room is a large bathroom. It used to be glorious. There’s marble on the floors, gold on the taps. A giant tub in one corner, a rain-shower in another. Benjamin walks in and looks through the cupboards, stuffing various jars and tubes into his backpack, even when he can’t figure out what it’s for. The girls will probably know.

He glances around and thinks about the tiny apartment he used to live in, barely bigger than a box, with a stained ceiling and doubtful wiring. It hadn’t really been home for him. Just a place to stay and sleep. It had been _his_ , but that had been the only positive thing about the whole place.

Even in this heat, the marble feels cold to his skin. He’s not sure whether he likes that.

The first bedroom seems to have belonged to a little boy. It has a small bed and desk, lots of toys, a computer and television. The boy had been a fan of cars. They are everywhere. Tiny but proudly displayed on shelves and nightstands. He slowly makes his way to the next door. He doesn’t search the closet or nightstand. Instead, he lets the room be.

A study is next. There’s nothing but folders and a large desk which holds several computer monitors and a dusty keyboard. There are phones within easy reach, a printer, scanner, even a fax machine. This used to be someone’s life, he thinks as he draws a smiley face in the dust on one of the monitors. He wipes it away before moving on.

He steps out onto the landing again and crosses over to another hallway. It smells bad here. He bangs on the walls but nothing moves inside the rooms. Still, he knows that smell by now. Rotting flesh.

He tightens his hold on the knife when he pushes the last door open.

It’s a little girl’s room. All pink and shiny. Dolls stare at him from every corner. There are books and toys, a large television and a skateboard with pink helmet. Coloring books are on the floor, hiding pencils and markers. There’s glitter on the walls and tiny lines with ages next to them, going up, up, up. The highest one barely reaches Benjamin’s waist.

And in the middle of all that childhood joy, there are three bodies.

Two of them are on the floor. A man and woman, by the looks of it. Slumped over but still tied together by their arms and waist. Bullet holes in their heads. An execution.

The third body is on the bed. It’s the little girl. Her hands and feet have been bound to the bedpost by sturdy looking rope. Her blood has soaked the mattress and pillow.

She’s naked.

Benjamin feels numb. He stares at the scene for a moment before stepping into the room. Then he notices there are words written above the bed.

 _To mom and dad; thanks for_ _sharing_.

 He looks down at the corpse of the naked girl and feels sick. It takes him a couple of moments before his body responds again. He grabs a blanket from the floor and throws it over the small body. Then he turns on his heels and runs out, back to the landing.

There’s another staircase, leading up to the attic. Must be the parents’ bedroom. He doesn’t care. Instead of going up, he thunders down the stairs, skipping the last few and jumping down.

Rosita, who’s standing by the front door looks over her shoulder at him, ‘what?’ she asks softly.

‘We’re getting out of here. Now.’

 ‘Ben?’ she asks when he rushes past her, jostling her shoulder roughly. ‘Hey! Ben. Ben, wait! What’s going on? What happened?’

‘Nothing, err, nothing,’ Benjamin stumbles out of the house. There’s sweat on his brow. He wipes it away distractedly as he looks around. ‘Fuck. Fuck me. Which way did we came from? That way, right? Yeah, yeah, okay, all right.’

‘Yeah, that way,’ Rosita answers as she joins him. ‘What did you find up there?’

‘Shampoo.’ The blond guy doesn’t look at her. ‘And some other stuff, toothpaste, face stuff, I don’t know. We’re leaving.’

Rosita looks back at the big house and hikes her backpack higher onto her back. ‘It’s so beautiful. We could lead the others back, stay here for a few days. I’ve always wanted to live in a place like this. Look at it, Ben.’

‘I said: _we’re leaving_!’ He stalks away, back the way they came. ‘And we’re never coming back. Ever.’

The girl follows him, ‘what did you see? _What happened_?’

‘Nothing! Jesus Christ, let’s just get back, okay?’

She stops. ‘Not until you tell me what’s going on! Hard to believe a bottle of shampoo freaked you out.’

Benjamin stops too. He looks at the woods surrounding them. They seem much darker than before, even though it’s still midday. Shadows loom between the trees. A twig snaps somewhere and his heart jumps into his throat. When he grabs his knife, his fingers tremble. ‘That guy downstairs? It wasn’t the only corpse. There were others, upstairs. That’s all you need to know, okay? I don’t want you to think about such things, it’s bad enough that I had to see it.’

Curiosity is a strange thing. Rosita cocks her head to the side, ‘what do you mean, _others_? Did they nail them to the walls too?’

‘No. There was a kid. A little girl.’ He shivers. Bile rises up in his throat. ‘She didn’t go easy, I think.’

Rosita makes a soft noise but he can’t quite place it. Sorrow, he thinks. Then a warm hand slides against his, gripping it tightly. Their fingers intertwine.

He glances down and wipes his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. A soft laugh escapes him, ‘I’m fine, really, you don’t have to hold my hand. I was just… I just… It shook me up a bit, but I’m okay now.’

‘I know.’ She swings their hands and tugs him back onto the road. ‘I’m not doing it for you.’

He grins and rubs his thumb over the back of her hand. ‘All right.’

‘Thanks. You’re the best hand-holder.’

‘I thought Abe was in the race for that one.’ He bumps her shoulder with his when she looks away. ‘Eh? _Eh_?’

She rolls her eyes, ‘how’s Daryl?’

Benjamin purses his lips for a second, thinking. ‘I think he likes being out on the road again, moving from place to place. Maybe it reminds him of, like, his youth? The teenage years? He told me that he moved around a lot with his brother, but I’m not sure how old he was at the time. Doesn’t matter anyway, he hates being cooped up. And it gives him, you know, a bit of freedom, a purpose. So yeah, he’s doing great. I haven’t seen him today, he was gone by the time I woke up, but, yeah…’

Rosita gives him an incredulous look.

He grins, letting go of her hand to drape his arm over her shoulders, tucking her close. He laughs, ‘oh sorry, was that meant to embarrass me? _How’s Daryl_? I’m not going to be embarrassed by being allowed to lust after him.’

She shakes her head. A fond smile sneaks onto her face. ‘You’re so weird.’

‘You really think so?’ Benjamin muses. ‘Have you seen those arms? Those abs?’

She snorts, ‘have you seen Abe’s arms? That twig of a redneck got nothing on him.’

Benjamin snorts and shakes his head. ‘Lies and delusions.’


	4. Chapter 4

 

* * *

 

 

It’s already dark when Daryl finally returns. Most of the group have turned in for the night, curled up into car seats with the doors open for quick escape and fresh air. Glenn is sitting on top of one of the cars at the front, his feet on the glass and Tara’s gun in his lap. He raises it, peering at the approaching form through the scope, but lowers it again when he recognizes Daryl’s relaxed gait.

‘Hey man,’ he greets when the hunter is close enough. ‘You’re out late.’

‘Didn’t find nothing.’

‘ _Nothing_?’

‘Ain’t a damn grocery store out there,’ Daryl growls. ‘Shot a buck, but it got away. Lost a bolt to that son of a bitch.’

Glenn ducks his head to hide a smile, ‘shame.’

‘’s fucked up, is what it is. Everyone all right?’

The Korean nods, ‘yeah. Benjamin and Rosita found some supplies. Water, some food. Power bars, mostly. He, err… He didn’t look okay. When he came back, Benjamin didn’t look okay.’

Daryl wipes his nose on his shoulder, ‘what do you mean?’

‘He seems fine now,’ Glenn says as he stretches. ‘Rosita said they’d found a house, somewhere out west. Apparently, they’d split up and Benjamin found something on another floor. Messed him up. He won’t talk about it.’

‘That’s a first.’

‘Well,’ Glenn’s smirk glistens in the dark, ‘he still talks about everything else.’

Daryl snorts, ‘figures. The rest’s fine?’

‘Yeah. I think Rick and Ben are still up, keeping an eye on the fire. Noah has the other guard post. Maggie and Michonne are next by midnight.’

‘All right,’ the hunter nod before he saunters over to the second car. He kneels beside the passenger side, leaning on the frame of the car as he looks at the sleeping form of Carol. She’s curled up in the chair, arms looped around her legs and her cheek on a knee. After a couple of seconds, he gets up again, joints cracking, and walks over towards the fire.

Rick is sitting on a log. He cleans his gun. Shadows dance over his face, making his eyes flash when he looks around.

Benjamin is sprawled out on the floor. One hand supports his head while the other draws figures in the earth. Swirls surround him and his nails are black. His voice mingles with the snapping of embers, soft and soothing, occasionally interrupted by Rick’s low rumble.

‘Hey,’ Daryl mumbles as he throws his bag onto the floor next to Rick. The bow is carefully placed outside the circle, behind him and within reach at all times. He stretches his legs, glad to be off his feet.

‘Hey,’ Rick greets while Benjamin gives him a lazy wave.

‘Where’s asskicker?’

Rick checks the barrel of the gun, ‘with Carl and Michonne.’

‘She still raisin’ hell?’

A flash of dark eyes, ‘my daughter does not _raise hell_ , Dixon.’

‘ _Schizoid behavior is a pretty common thing in children. It's accepted, because all we adults have this unspoken agreement that children are lunatics_. Stephen King.’ Benjamin yawns as Daryl snorts.

‘My daughter is not a lunatic, Benjamin.’

‘Hey, Stephen King said it, not me.’

‘I’m holding a gun.’

Benjamin blinks and presses his lips together for a second. ‘Well, I think your daughter is precious. Very precious. Even if she’s splitting my eardrums and making me want to consider suicide. Or murder. And possibly both. Really, really precious. You remember when she threw up all over you? Adorable, I tell you.’

Rick laughs softly and aims his gun at the blond man. ‘Careful, bookworm.’ He gets up and dusts his ragged jeans off out of habit. ‘I’m going to get some sleep. Keep the fire low.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Benjamin drawls as he etches another circle in the dirt. ‘Good night, sir.’

‘Little shit.’

The blonde snorts and moans at the same time, ‘but I’m trying so hard!’

‘You’re still a little shit.’

‘Hardly _little_ ,’ he says. ‘All grown up, actually.’

Rick puts his hands on his hips and looks down at the young man. ‘Grown-up? You’re what? Twelve?’

Benjamin looks up with a scandalized look on his face. ‘I’m twenty six! Maybe even twenty seven, my birthday is in summer. It could be my birthday today! You really should be nicer to people on their birthdays, Rick. This is so rude of you.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Rick says sarcastically.

‘Wish me a happy birthday.’

The former sheriff can’t bite his smile back any longer. He wipes a hand over his face, ‘fine. Happy birthday, Benjamin.’

‘Why, thank you, Rick. It’s so nice that you remembered! Got me a present?’

‘Don’t push your luck, kid,’ their leader scoffs. ‘Keep him in check, Daryl.’

Daryl hums around his thumb, on which he bites to hide his amusement at the interaction.

They watch how Rick silently slips into the back car, where he slouches in the chair. Daryl turns back to the fire, watching how the flames slowly die. They don’t need the heat. It’s a warm summer night. The sky is filled with stars. The moon is so bright above them.

In this silence, they can hear Noah shuffle around down the road, probably walking a couple of laps to stay awake, while Glenn’s boots squeak on the glass of the windshield when he moves.

‘We could grab the opportunity to make out like total teenagers,’ Benjamin says. ‘Just throwing that out there.’

‘Heard you had a rough run.’

‘Or we could talk about all things awful and apocalyptic.’ The blond sits up and rubs at his hair. ‘Talk about setting the mood.’

Daryl doesn’t answer. He just looks at the other man through his bangs.

‘I don’t really want to talk about it.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it won’t change anything,’ Benjamin mutters as he scoots around the fire to where the hunter is sitting. ‘Open up,’ he taps on Daryl’s knees and slides between his legs when the other guy obeys. ‘We weren’t in any real danger, I don’t think. They’d written something on the wall though. A message. _Rich asshole wouldn’t share. We will. Go south. The beginning is not far now_. What do you suppose it means?’

‘Exactly as it says.’

‘ _We_ are heading south,’ Benjamin says as he leans back against Daryl’s chest.

‘South’s a big ass place.’

The blond nods, ‘but the beginning is not far now? The beginning of what? A trail?’

Daryl shrugs and leans with his elbow on his bend knee, the palm of his hand under his chin. His fingers rub over his bottom lip. ‘Don’t know.’

Benjamin hums. His fingers play with the fraying hem of Daryl’s pants. ‘Have you eaten anything today?’

‘You’re my mom now?’

‘That’s a no then.’ Benjamin gets up and digs around in his bag. He throws three power bars at the hunter. ‘Eat up. Did you at least drink something?’

‘Loads.’

The green eyes narrow. ‘A lie?’

‘No.’ Daryl rips one of the bars open and bites it in half. ‘Was hot and we got enough for the time being.’

Benjamin watches the fire while Daryl eats. He pokes the fire with a stick, causing flames to lick the night sky before dying in the breeze. Shadows dance over his face. The blond hair stick up at the front, messy from the times he ran his hand through it. He has some stubble on his cheeks and chin, a light dusting which always seems to irritate him.

Daryl watches. He chews slowly, trying to make the food last. Benjamin’s jeans are filthy. Dirt and blood clings to the fabric. He’s wearing a dark green shirt, almost black in this light. Daryl can’t even make out the stains on that garment, but he knows they’re there. The only clean things about his friend are his knife, gun and boots. He takes meticulous care of them.

‘When I was little, like, really little, I was playing with a friend on the school’s playground,’ Benjamin says suddenly, eyes still on the fire. ‘My friend fell, scraped his knee. He started crying and I ran over and asked; _are you all right_?  And he said; _no_. And I just,’ he waves his hand vaguely, ‘I just started laughing.’

Daryl opens another bar, ‘why?’

‘I’d never heard anyone reply to; _are you okay_ , with a negative answer before. I thought it was hilarious until, you know, my friend started crying harder.’ Benjamin shakes his head with a soft smile, ‘I just remember being so stumped by that _no_ , I didn’t know what else to do, so I just laughed.’

‘’s what kids do. ‘s either that or cryin’, only got two options.’

‘Yeah.’

Daryl chews thoughtfully and then swallow. ‘Got kicked out of church once, when I was a kid. Couldn’t stop laughing. It was all Merle’s fault. He kept pullin’ these faces, mimicking the priest. Nearly pissed myself.’

Benjamin laughs softly, ‘who kicked you out?’

‘Our mom. She grabbed my ear and just yanked me out of there, ranting about how I’d embarrassed her. We drove home, Merle gigglin’ in the backseat. Jackass. Of course my dad noticed that we were home way earlier than normal, so I got my ass handed to me. Hypocrite. He never went to church.’

The blond man just looks at him.

Daryl shrugs, ‘guess my mom felt kind of bad for rattin’ on me or something. Next Sunday we went out for ice cream instead of goin’ to church.’

‘What was your mom like?’

Another shrug, ‘just a mom, you know? Patched us up, gave us hell, all that.’

Benjamin nods, ‘and your dad?’

Daryl stretches and throws one power bar back to the blond. ‘I’m full. You goin’ to get some sleep?’

Benjamin looks at him for a second. And lets the topic drop. ‘Yeah, I’m pretty tired. There’s not enough room in the cars, though. Think there might be a spot in Carol’s car, front seat. You can take that one.’

‘I don’t mind sleepin’ outdoors. You take it.’

‘I’m fine.’

Daryl grabs his backpack so he can use it as a pillow and wraps the strap of his crossbow around his wrist so it’ll be within easy reach should he need it. ‘Suit yourself,’ he mumbles as he stares up at the night sky.

Benjamin gets up again and throws his own backpack down next to the hunter. He settles in besides his friend. ‘This okay?’

‘Fine.’

‘Okay then. Well, good night.’

‘Night.’

‘Secret kiss?’

Daryl smirks and tilts his chin up. A warm hand curls around his cheek, tugging him down until his lips meet Benjamin’s. He opens up slightly, making the kiss dip into something more than just a brush of lips. When he pulls back, Benjamin rolls onto his left shoulder with a content sigh, hands tucked under his chin.

He’s asleep within minutes.

Daryl shifts around, trying to get comfortable on the floor. It takes him an hour before sleep finally claims him.

 

‘Wake up, mutt.’

A shoe pokes in Daryl’s back, right between his shoulder blades. He groans softly, rolling onto his back and blinking sleepily. The sky is gray, the sun rising on his right. He rubs at his eye with his fist.

Michonne is standing over him, hands on her hips. There’s an easy grin on her lips. ‘Come on,’ she says, ‘breakfast is ready.’

Daryl looks to the side and Noah grins at him, gesturing with a bowl.

The hunter groans, ‘for fuck’s sake…’

‘Up,’ Michonne orders, aiming a kick at his arm. ‘You’re going to eat two portions; Carol’s orders. We don’t want you falling off that bike. Apparently.’

Daryl hoist himself into a sitting position, ‘fine. Give me that,’ he takes the bowl from the teenager and folds his legs under him so he can sit cross-legged. The food is still steaming hot, but he eats it stoically, glad to have something warm inside his belly for once. He often misses lunch and dinner because he’s out hunting, but sometimes he skips breakfast too to get an early start. He finishes in record time and passes the bowl back for more.

‘Why, good morning, handsome.’ Benjamin flops down next to him, all sleepy eyes and mussed hair.

‘Where’d you fuck off to?’

‘Was taking a piss.’

‘The romance is killing me, guys,’ Michonne says sarcastically. ‘Tone it down, please.’

Benjamin grins, ‘sorry. I mean; my love, my heart called for you, but my bladder was bursting so I had to leave your side for just a sec so I could take a piss.’

The woman rolls her eyes, ‘better.’

‘ _Daryl_!’

The hunter looks up to see Rick waving him over. The former sheriff is standing in front of the first car, bowed over a map. Abraham and Rosita are by his side already, pointing things out and discussing their route. With a grunt, Daryl gets to his feet and walks over to his friend.

‘’s up?’

‘There’s an army base.’

Daryl licks his spoon clean, ‘where?’

‘About a week away.’

‘With fuel?’

Rick nods.

‘We’re runnin’ low though.’

‘Couple of weeks on foot,’ Rick says softly, glancing around and scratching at his beard.

‘It’s a small base,’ Abraham says. ‘Worth checking out.’

Daryl glances at him. He’s glad they seem to have decided on a general direction. The aimless wandering is driving the rest of the group mad. It’ll be good to have a concrete objective, and one Abraham knows exists. He doesn’t want to chase ghosts.

But a nagging sensation causes him to bite his thumb.

‘What?’ Rick asks, catching the movement out of the corner of his eye.

‘Ain’t gonna be like the CDC, man,’ Daryl answers. ‘You know that, right? No-one’s going to be there.’

‘I know that.’ Sharp blue eyes pierce Daryl. ‘But it could be like the prison. They’ll have security measures. Gates, walls. We could clear it. Claim it.’

‘All right,’ Daryl nods, not because he believes in this plan, but because he has no other alternative. If it were up to him, they’d just roam the country side like they have been doing, but he knows that’s not sustainable. They would run out of water, food, and Rick was right, back on the rooftop. The road messes with their heads. Fear becomes second nature, sneaking into their bloodstream and making their hearts thunder with every snapping twig.

Judith deserves better. Carl, too. And he knows that Carol misses a place they can call home.

Sasha seems to absorb the wild. He sees it in the way she shoulders her gun, even when there’s nothing threatening anywhere nearby. She’s slowly losing herself to fear and survival.

He can’t let that happen to his family. He won’t lose them again, not even to themselves.

Rick folds the map up, slaps Abraham on the shoulder and nods, ‘all right then. Let’s gather everyone. We’re heading south again. Daryl, you’re up front. Who’s riding with you?’

‘Ben,’ Daryl says without thinking about it.

‘Okay. Abe, you’re behind him, I’ll drive the second car, Carol the third. Let’s go.’

 

Camp breaks up in a matter of seconds. Everything is thrown back into the trunks of the cars and stuffed between the feet of those riding shotgun. Everyone naturally splits into three groups, with Carl and Judith at Michonne’s side in the middle car. The boy sulks a bit when his father sends him towards the car. He mutters something about wanting to ride with Daryl.

Benjamin uses one of the car mirrors to fix his hair. He sits on his hunches and uses his fingers as a comb. Sasha is sitting on the hood. She laughs at his attempts.

Daryl walks up to them, ‘you’re with me today, Ben.’

The blond lifts an eyebrow, ‘is it because I look so good?’

‘As walker bait, yeah.’

Benjamin pouts when Sasha laughs again, ‘he’s always shooting me down. Crushing my soul, all my hopes and dreams. I’m wounded.’

‘No one cares,’ Daryl says.

‘ _See_?’

Sasha giggles behind her hand. ‘I think you look cute, Ben. Don’t let the big meanie bring you down.’

‘Cute?’ Benjamin asks as he pushes a strand back behind his ear. ‘Devastatingly handsome, you mean. Masculine! Ripped. Fresh as hell. Wait, no, no one says _fresh_ anymore. What do the cool kids say? What’s apocalypse appropriate? Can we reintroduce _fly_? Very retro, I love it. Fly as fuck. That’s me; hella fly.’

 ‘Jesus, ain’t no damn runway, boy. Leave the hair alone.’

Benjamin rolls his eyes, ‘just because you look like some shaggy dog that just crawled out of the … I love that look by the way,’ he back paddles when Daryl glares and walks away. ‘Shit,’ he laughs when he grabs his backpack and follows his friend. ‘Seriously, Daryl, you are the pinnacle of handsome, the handsomest handsome of all the handsome. Gorgeous, in fact! You can be fly too, if you wanna, just handing that title out now, but not to anyone! Only to fly people, like you! Daryl!’

Carol passes them. She laughs and gets a quick kiss from Benjamin in the passing, ‘what have you done now?’

‘I might have implied that his looks are akin to a dog’s…’

Carol smiles, ‘is it the hair?’

‘No, no, he is _not_ like a dog, Carol. Mind your manners. He is handsome. In a rugged, crawled out of the forest and stabbed a walker kind of way. Not like a dog at all. What are you thinking, woman?’

‘It’s the hair.’

Benjamin grins, ‘it just keeps on growing, doesn’t it? Jesus. Soon, he won’t even see where he’s shooting. Doubt he needs to, though. He’s like a bloodhound for walkers. And deer. And other forest-things. Animals, I mean.’

Carol laughs, ‘when I first met him, he had short hair. He looked so young.’

‘Ain’t old now so shut up,’ Daryl calls back from where he’s fastening the bow to his bike. He throws a leg over, straddling the machine. ‘Hurry up, or I’ll leave your ass behind.’

‘But it’s such a pretty little thing,’ Benjamin objects as he jogs over, tightening the straps of his backpack before planting his hands firmly on Daryl’s shoulders and swinging a leg over. He lands heavily, testing the seat a bit before leaning sideways so he can see the pegs where his feet are supposed to rest on.

Daryl glances over his shoulder. Benjamin zips up his jacket and puts his gloves on. The smile fades into a more serious expression. He shifts again, adjusting his jeans a bit before looking up and meeting Daryl’s eye. In the bright sunlight, his eyes are impossibly green.

‘Just a bit of comic relief to boost morale.’

A smirk drags the corner of Daryl’s mouth upwards. He reaches back and pats his friend on the leg. ‘Good to go?’

‘All set, I think. First time on the back of a bike though.’

Daryl smiles at that, ‘you got on good.’

‘I’ve seen others do it. Any tips and tricks?’

‘Don’t lean into corners, it’ll throw my balance off,’ the hunter warns. ‘If there’s something wrong, tap my right shoulder. Once means kinda want to stop, two means kinda urgently, three immediate, okay? Tap the left if you wanna point something out.’

Benjamin nods, ‘once if my butt just hurts, three for full on panic attack. Left for scenery. Got it.’

‘Good. We won’t be going fast, so no worries.’

‘Shame,’ Benjamin mutters as he looks over his shoulder. Rick is the last one the get into a car. ‘The rest is all packed up. Let’s get this show on the road.’

Daryl revs the engine and smoothly guides the machine onto the road. Benjamin’s hands curl around his hips, fingers on the sharp bones. He squeezes hard the first time Daryl throws the throttle open, but relaxes when the scenery starts to flash by. They reach the end of the small road in seconds, gliding to a stop. Daryl balances the bike.

‘Don’t put your feet down,’ he warns Benjamin as they come to a full stop. ‘Fucks with the balance and ya might hit the exhaust.’

‘That was amazing.’

‘Five feet is what it was,’ Daryl murmurs as he looks down the road. The cars slowly start to move towards them. ‘Ya good?’

‘Yeah, you? My hands okay where they are?’

Daryl nods. ‘’s fine. Just don’t be grabbin’ on me.’

‘Oh, I’ll be grabbin’ on ya,’ Benjamin laughs in a fake southern accent, ‘just not while on the bike.’

‘Deal.’

Before Benjamin can make a smart comment, or even laugh, Daryl kicks the bike into gear and lets it speed down the next road. Sharp nails dig into his clothes, a forehead is pressed between the angel wings and the strong thighs squeeze his hips. The wind howls around them. The hands on his hips relax after a couple of miles. They slowly creep towards his abs, fingertips ghosting over the skin. Daryl finds he doesn’t mind so much.


	5. False light

 

* * *

 

 

The summer breeze carries Gabriel’s prayers. The group has gathered in front of a large road sign. A walker is pinned to the green backdrop, held up by large nails that have been driven through the bones in its arms and legs. Crucified. Above it, in big blocky letters, it says; _wouldn’t share_.

Carl is leaning against Benjamin’s side, who has wrapped a comforting arm around the boy’s shoulders. The kid seems stoic, regarding the walker with an indifferent expression which causes Rick’s heart to ache, but he is glad to see that the young boy still sought the comforting presence of his new friend.

The blond cocks his head to the side, ‘they got a whole theme going on.’

The walker shifts its attention to the new voice. It snarls and growls at him.

Rick looks over his shoulder, ‘theme?’

‘There was a message like this at the house Rosita and I found, the other day. _Rich asshole wouldn’t share. We will. Go south. The beginning is not far now_.’

Rick looks at Rosita, who shrugs and says; ‘yeah, it was something like that.’

Daryl knows the message was exactly like that. And he also knows that the other man will never forget it now. Like all those other snippets he recalls so easily, this too has stuck.

‘You didn’t think that was something I should know?’ Rick demands.

‘I thought Rosita had told you,’ Benjamin shrugs.

‘It was written near a walker,’ the woman says. Obviously she’d told Rick how the run had gone, but Benjamin had been avoiding Rick for the rest of the evening so he didn’t have to answer any questions about that place. He doesn’t want to think about what he’d found upstairs.

Benjamin squeezes Carl’s shoulder before walking up to Daryl. ‘If you shoot it, I’ll bring your bolt back.’

‘Gonna climb that thing?’ Daryl asks skeptically.

‘Yeah. We should put it out of its misery. I’d rather climb up when it’s already dead.’

Daryl thinks about the bolt he’d lost to the walker hanging from a tree, back when Andrea had been by his side. He sighs and squints up at the figure, helplessly struggling against the nails. ‘Easy shot,’ he comments as he throws his backpack onto the ground and searches in his quiver for an old bolt. He loads the bow with fluent movements, shouldering the weapon before sidestepping to get a better angle.

The bolts meets its target with a sickening crunch and loud bang.

A final groan and then it’s silent.

Benjamin shrugs his bag off his shoulders.

‘Don’t bother,’ Daryl says when he lowers the bow. ‘Bolt hit the sign. It’s fuckin’ ruined.’

Benjamin looks at him for a couple of seconds. A smile softens his features. ‘Thank you, Daryl.’

‘Whatever,’ the hunter dismisses but the tips of his ears grow hot when he sling his backpack back on.

‘All right,’ Rick says, ‘everyone back to the cars. We’re heading to the gas station, it’s not far now.’

‘Dinner!’ Benjamin moans, hugging his midriff, ‘ _food_!’

Carl sniggers, ‘you skipped lunch, idiot.’

‘Hello? I was guarding y’all! Like a loyal watchdog; I was my very own German Shepard and no one even threw me some scraps!’ Daryl watches how his friend trades jibes with the boy. Carl laughs, head tilted back, the hat nearly falling off. Then Benjamin starts walking back towards the cars, ‘come on,’ he says, ‘listen to your old man, let’s go.’

Carl runs up to him and jumps on his back to claim a piggy ride.

Benjamin swears as he stumbles, but he manages to stay upright and hitch the boy higher onto his back before carrying him towards the last car. ‘You lazy piece of shit,’ he snorts as Carl transfers the sheriffs hat to the blond.

Daryl glances at Rick, who’s smiling at the two.

‘He should not be here.’ Gabriel’s voice wipes the smile away. The Father goes to stand besides Daryl, eyes hard as he looks at Benjamin. ‘You should keep your son away from him.’

‘Why’s that?’ Rick asks as he shifts Judith to his other hip. She paws at his chest, tiny fingers roaming over the flannel shirt. He kisses the top of her head.

‘False light,’ Gabriel scoffs. ‘The devil hides among us and it presents itself as an earthly angel. His mind is corrupted. His tongue forked.’

Daryl tilts his chin a bit higher but doesn’t say anything.

Rick looks at the Father, ‘the devil? He’s saved your life. All our lives.’

‘Soon he will collect that debt,’ Gabriel nods. ‘He cannot be trusted. Your son is in danger, he will be perverted too.’

‘How?’

Gabriel looks at Daryl, ignoring Rick’s hard look. ‘You know it too. He’s a sinner. God will not be merciful to the likes of him. To _men_ like him. We all know what he really is.’

Daryl doesn’t even know what to say. He’s too surprised, gob-smacked really, and his mind is struggling to cope with the fact that someone could be so damn _blind_. So instead of saying anything, he just crosses his arms and stares the Father down.

It’s Rick who laughs. A low rumble from deep within his chest. The skin around the blue eyes wrinkle with mirth. ‘That’s,’ he nods, shifting his weight a little, ‘that’s really funny.’ The laughter fades to nothing but cold eyes and tight lips. ‘Because I don’t think He will be merciful to those who left their own congregation to die, either. This world, which you claim he created, is dying. This isn’t hell,’ Rick says, his voice deceptively calm. ‘This isn’t the great rapture, or damnation. This is life as He made it. He made _us_ like this. All of us. And if this is a test, then, Father, we failed a long time ago.’

The former sheriff gives Gabriel another cold look before kissing Judith’s head again and walking away towards the cars. There he speaks to Benjamin until the blond nods. He reaches out and takes Judith from Rick, cradling her against his chest. Another quiet conversation while Rick moves the younger man’s hands to show how he’d best support the little girl and then Rick is off to talk to Tara and Sasha.

‘Sodom and Gomorrah,’ Gabriel tells Daryl with a pointed look. Maybe he’d hoped to find support with the redneck, but while Daryl knows his scriptures, he’s lost his faith a long time ago. There’s a devil and angel on his shoulder blade, dancing around each other. He believes in neither.

The hunter snorts, scuffing his boot on the concrete. Small, sharp eyes pierce Gabriel for a brief second. ‘Think it was the gang-rape God was objecting to, man,’ he mutters before sauntering over to his family.

Carl has joined Maggie, who’s on watch while they’re stalled at the side of the road, but Benjamin is leaning against the car. He grins when the hunter approaches him. ‘Look,’ he says, ‘I’m holding a toddler!’

‘Think I’m fuckin’ blind?’

‘I’ve never held one before!’

Daryl can’t help but laugh at that. ‘Don’t ya drop her now.’

‘I won’t. I think, I’m holding her all right, right?’

‘Yeah, you’re good.’ Daryl hops onto the hood of the car and kicks the tire while looking out over the road. ‘Thought your sis was younger. Never held her?’

‘Probably, but I don’t really remember. When she was born, I had to sit on the couch so my dad could put her in my lap instead of me actually holding her. I only remember because I know there’s a picture of the two of us on the couch. It’s weird how that works. Sometimes I’m not sure whether I remember stuff or just know that they happened because there are pictures, or people have told me about it so many times, you know?’ Benjamin says as he gently rocks the toddler. ‘Apparently, I’ve been to Europe once. France. Probably drooled on the Eiffel tower, cause that’s what toddlers do, huh, little girl? You’re not going to drool on me, hmm? Because we’re friends now, and friends don’t drool on each other. Or throw up on them, okay? Just wait until daddy is back and then go all out.’

Daryl smirks at that.

‘What about your brother?’ Benjamin asks. ‘Was he older than you?’

‘Way older,’ Daryl answers as he brushes his hair out of his face. He scratches at his cheek while avoiding the blond man’s gaze. ‘Merle. One tough son of a bitch. Ten years older, always in and out of juvie, jail. Decided to clean up when he was eighteen, joined the military. Fight and die for your country,’ Daryl scoffs, ‘couldn’t even do that right.’

Benjamin cocks his head to the side questioningly.

‘Dishonorably discharged,’ Daryl tells him. ‘Punched some asshole. Sixteen months in jail. He was laughin’ his ass of when he called me, told me it had been worth it.’

‘Were you two close?’

There’s a frown on Daryl’s face as if he doesn’t quite understand the question. He shrugs. ‘We were blood.’

‘Not all siblings are close.’

‘Kin’s all that matters,’ Daryl says softly. The words are an echo from his childhood, a mantra he’s got written in scars and nightmares on the very fiber of his being. Maybe others wouldn’t have considered him and Merle to be close, with Merle being ten years older and already in juvie by the time Daryl could crawl, but they were raised with the notion that blood is everything. It’s the reason why Merle kept circling back every couple of years to check in on his little brother, why Daryl could always rely on the looming shadow of his blood, always watching his back and on his side.

To outsiders, they were blood and kin, a bond that couldn’t ever be broken by time, distance, or absence. Among themselves, they fought like cats and dogs until Daryl learned to let things slide off of him, and not get so riled up by Merle’s petty teasing.

They were a force to be reckoned with, back in the day. The infamous Dixon brothers.

‘What about your dad? Were you two….’ Benjamin trails off. The green eyes are downcast.

‘Close?’ Daryl scoffs, kicking the tire beneath him. ‘Close enough so he could put his cigarettes out on my back, if that’s what ya mean. If ya couldn’t tell, we weren’t the Sunday dinner kinda family.’

Benjamin nods, ‘yeah, I… I could tell. I mean… yeah…. I just…’ He sighs and meets the hunter’s eye, ‘I want to know but I don’t want to ask.’

Daryl sneers at that, ‘why? ‘Cause ya afraid I’m gonna cry over the shit my daddy’s done to me?’

‘No, because you’re going to stomp my ass for prying.’

Daryl laughs softly and shakes his head. ‘’s not save for baby ears, anyways,’ he slides off the car and strokes Judith’s hair and then glances up at Benjamin. ‘Maybe when you’re older, petty boy.’

‘ _Mean_ ,’ Benjamin moans.

‘Called ya pretty, ain’t that what ya wanted?’

‘Handsome! Dashing! Fly as fuck, remember?’ The green eyes widen. ‘Shit, sorry Judith, don’t tell your dad I said that.’ He kisses her forehead. ‘Friends don’t rat each other out, baby girl. So,’ he rocks the toddler before looking around their little campsite. Gabriel is still by the road sign, his arms folded and a scowl on his face. ‘Any particular reason why Gabriel is giving me the evil eye on this fine afternoon?’

‘He thinks you’re the devil in disguise.’

‘Pretty decent disguise then, eh? Is it my striking personality or the fact that I’d like to suck you off?’

Daryl nearly chokes on his sharp intake of breath.

‘Okay, okay,’ Benjamin laughs, ‘moving too fast, okay, calm down. Nobody is sucking anything, okay? Jesus, your face. It was a joke. Well, not really, but, you know… Let’s defuse this sudden tension. Stop looking so frightened, please. Err, I really don’t know what to say now. Help.’

‘Shut the fuck up.’

‘That’s not helping.’

‘I’m serious, you son of a bitch!’

Benjamin bites his lower lip. Then allows a tiny grin to form on his face, ‘you really shouldn’t talk like that around Judith, man. The filth that comes out of your mouth.’

Disbelief and anger appears on Daryl’s face when he steps up to his friend, ‘you’re the one who’s talkin’ about suckin’ me off!’

‘I’m sorry!’ The blond laughs. By now he’s learned to recognize when the anger displayed is real and when it just stems from insecurities and doubt. It might have taken a few tries, but now he’s sure when to push and when to wait. ‘Why the hell am I apologizing for that anyway? We have the most ridiculous fights. You’re hot, I brush my teeth, we’re Facebook official! It shouldn’t be this surprising.’

‘I said _: shut the fuck up_!’ Daryl snarls before stalking off. There’s tension in his posture. When Noah calls out to him, he ignores the young man. With a practiced move, he swings his bow from his shoulder to his hands. It attracts Rick’s attention. They trade a couple of words before the hunter lobes down the side of the road and disappears into the woods.

 

 

‘Hey.’

Daryl looks up from his dinner and scoffs when he sees Carol standing beside him, her arms folded in front of her chest, feet shuffling. Her gray hair is swept away from her eyes. She looks unsure. ‘You’ve got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,’ the hunter grouses. ‘He send ya?’

‘No.’ She sinks down to sit on her hunches. ‘Find anything good on your little trip?’

‘No.’ He licks his fingers clean and glances at her, ‘heard about Eugene and Tara.’

She nods and grabs a stick to poke the fire with. The flames dance in the night. ‘Walkers on every road sign south of here. Arrows to lead the way.’

‘Got a lot of balls, leadin’ anyone over there. Don’t know who’s out on the road these days. They must have high walls, muscle.’

‘Think we should go there?’ she asks softly.

‘Hell no. You saw them signs; people strung up, some of them hadn’t turned yet. I say we best avoid them, head to the coast, then pick the trail back up, going south like we planned.’

‘Have you talked to Rick about that?’

Daryl grunts, ‘Rick just wants to get to that damn army base. Fastest way is cuttin’ through the mainland. I get it. It sounds good, but…’ he shakes his head and bites his thumb, glancing around the campsite. There’s no-one around. ‘People are startin’ to crack. Tara. Eugene. Abe’s getting sloppy. Wears ya down,’ he mutters around his thumb. ‘The road.’

‘Not you.’

‘’s all I know,’ he says. ‘Never stayed any place long, and with these damn herds… it feels best to keep movin’. ‘

‘It feels like we’re the ones being hunted,’ Carol answers. Her eyes are dark, despite the fire burning. ‘By walkers, thirst, hunger, the road. It’s slow. Something gnawing on you, taking little bits of you until you wake up like someone else. Sometimes it’s hard to remember who we were before all of this.’

Daryl rubs at his lower lips, ‘we survived. ‘s all that matters. ‘s all we are.’

Carol nods. ‘Are you and Ben okay?’

‘We’re fine, woman.’ He huffs a little, annoyed. ‘Good lord.’

She gives him a tight smile, ‘well, I’m assuming you thought that he’d send me to check up on you, so….’

The hunter shrugs.

‘He’s on triple watch tonight. He said he’d slept during the day.’

Daryl hums and shoves some more food into his mouth, ‘if he said he slept, he slept, all right?’

Carol bumps their shoulders together, ‘all right. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.’

He glances at her. Small eyes glinting in the light of the flames. He listens to the quiet around them, the snapping of the fire and rustling of night-air through the trees. He sucks his fingers clean and throws the bowl into the grass beside him. For a moment, he just sits there. Then he bites his thumb. ‘Think we’re goin’ to hell?’

She stays silent for a long time. ‘I don’t know,’ she says eventually. ‘If there’s anything we’ve learned from this, it’s that it can’t be that black and white. I think we try to be good people. That must count.’

Daryl nods. He tries to look indifferent as he inspects the nail he’d just bitten down on. ‘What about Benjamin?’

‘I think he is good people,’ she says without hesitation. A hand reaches out and brushes the dark hair behind his ear, a thumb traces his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles there. ‘And so are you.’

He thinks about all he’s done. How he’d wasted his life before the outbreak, how this isn’t what he would have ever called a _life_ now. All the times he’s raised his gun, bow, fists and saw someone die due to his actions. Not just walkers, or Joe’s men either. Hershel too. Dale. Jim. Amy. Jacqui. T-dog.

Hell, _Merle_.

It gets easier. Some nights he barely even dreams of them.

Instead he dreams about fingers on his ribcage, of smiling lips on his neck, too-bright and too-green eyes, and he wakes up to that warm skin, those features relaxed in sleep, those lips parted and hot breath ghosting over his own skin. The cold of night easily dispelled by scooting closer to his friend. And he never fears his dreams when he falls asleep to the soft murmurs of Benjamin, lost in his own mind, next to him.

It’s not supposed to get easier though. He never thought he’d miss his nightmares.

He meets Carol’s eye. ‘I’m not so sure,’ he murmurs.


	6. Questions

 

* * *

 

 

The woods feel strange when Daryl walks through them the following day. The trees are dense, the sunlight barely penetrates the thick leaves above his head and the bark feels cold when he runs his hand over it. Shadows dance between spots of sunshine, haunting his footfalls and grabbing at his peripheral vision.

The moss beneath his boots is slippery with dew. He almost loses his footing when his focus shifts from where he puts his feet to where the game might be hiding.

It’s a cool morning. Daryl glances up at the leaves, but none of them have changed color yet. Fall is approaching though. He can feel it in the air.

‘See anything?’ Rick steps up beside him. His shoulders are hunched as he hides in his jacket. The blue eyes are dull when they look at the hunter expectantly.

‘You tell me,’ Daryl challenges as he scans the surroundings.

Rick sighs and pretends to look too. ‘Deer.’

It’s a guess. And not a very good one.

‘No deer here, man,’ Daryl mutters. ‘We’re huntin’ far smaller game than that.’

‘Thought that buck might be bringing your bolt back.’

Daryl smirks at his friend, ‘ain’t that polite of it. Nah, he’s long gone. Someone will have an easy kill though. Was a good shot.’

‘Or some thing,’ Rick mutters under his breath. He’s leaning against a tree now, hands deep in his pockets. There’s something wrong with his eyes, Daryl thinks, and his cheeks are far too red beneath the tan. ‘Maybe you just fed a bunch of walkers.’

‘Hope they choke on the bolt.’

The corners of Rick’s mouth quirk up in a fleeting smile. It fades when he presses his mouth into the crook of his elbow and coughs harshly.

‘Ya all right?’

‘I’m fine,’ the former sheriff murmurs as he pushes himself away from the tree to continue their tracking. The movement seems uncoordinated. He sways a little and then stops, shakes his head as if trying to clear it before walking on, a little steadier now.

Daryl narrows his eyes but holds his tongue.

The wind whispers in his ear about colder nights and shorter days. It lures them deeper and deeper into the woods, away from their group. Normally it doesn’t bother Daryl. He likes to follow trails until he has to follow his own back home, swallowed by nature and spit out on his own doorstep, muscles aching from the long walks and head only filled with the white noise of leaves crunching beneath his boots.

Now, however, he listens to Rick’s heavy breathing. His heavy footfalls. On any ordinary day, Rick isn’t the most stealthy person Daryl has ever come across, of course, he’s not a hunter in the way Daryl is, but he was starting to learn. This morning it’s like Rick never had no lessons.

The leader just plows through the woods, paying no mind to where he’s walking. Branches snap beneath his feet. He stumbles over tree trunks. Soft curses spill from his lips as he tries to keep up with the redneck.

Daryl leads him on in a half-hearted circle. Rick doesn’t notice.

‘Sure you’re all right, man?’

Rick nods, ‘just a cough.’

‘Doesn’t look like it,’ Daryl says. There’s sweat on Rick’s brow. He’s breathing too hard. The hunter kneels and pretends to redo the laces of his boots. He watches how the sheriff leans against a tree again, clinging to the cold bark, his forehead pressed against it as he quietly tries to catch his breath. ‘How’s Carl holding up?’

‘Good, good,’ Rick nods distractedly. He wipes his forehead before straightening again. He lets out a soft laugh. ‘He’s a real teenager now, I think.’

‘Whole other world of trouble.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Rick sighs as he rubs the back of his neck. ‘He’s been starting to ask me _questions_.’ He tells his friend with a significant look. ‘There are things a dad doesn’t need to know. I just, I want him to stay my little boy.’ He shakes his head, ‘he may have killed, plundered, robbed and fought, but he’s my little boy.’ Rick sighs and rubs the back of his neck. ‘I wish Lori was here.’

Daryl tilts his chin up as a sign that he’s listening and understands.

‘People thought we were a great couple,’ Rick tells him. ‘It was always us, you know? Parent-teacher conferences, watching one of his games, birthday parties. Other parents showed up alone, husband had to work, wife was busy. Not us. The perfect couple, high school sweethearts, proud parents.’ He laughs and scoffs at the same time, ‘but it was her. She raised him. And I just kept turning up at the right second before going back to work, doing my own thing. Nobody noticed. Nobody outside of us.’

Daryl straightens and puts the bow on his back. They’re done hunting for today.

‘Think he knows?’ Rick asks. ‘That I wasn’t always there, that is wasn’t as perfect as everyone thought it was?’

The hunter shrugs, ‘don’t matter now. What he’ll remember is that you came back, fought like hell to keep him safe. He’s a lucky kid. Most dads don’t bother. They just cut ‘n run. Or they just stop givin’ a damn. Not sure which is worse.’

The blue eyes pin Daryl on the spot. It reminds him of the cop Rick used to be, the keen gaze, the cuffs on his belt. A silent interrogation.

‘Come on,’ Daryl murmurs, patting his friend on the shoulder, ‘ain’t nothin’ out here, let’s head back.’

Rick nods. They walk side by side, the cop stumbling sometimes while the redneck moves with easy grace.

The woods get thinner when they near the road where the group is waiting. Their clothes are spread out over the cars, drying after Carl and Abraham washed them in the creek. Maggie is walking around, wringing out her dark hair and shaking it dry. There’s a smile on her face as she hugs Glenn and kisses the corner of his mouth.

Daryl starts down the last slope of a hill but Rick grabs his shoulder, forcing his friend to look at him. ‘Hey,’ he says softly, ‘I just… It’s not always ruined. It might not always be perfect, but sometimes it works.’

The hunter narrows his eyes and stays silent.

Rick coughs into the crook of his elbow, ‘you know that, right? You got a good thing going.’

‘Worry about your teenager, friendly,’ Daryl scoffs but he claps his friend on the back before walking away.

 

 

Benjamin lets himself fall backwards, arms spread out. The water breaks on his back, drowning him in bubbles and sweet summer memories as he sinks into the lake. He blinks in the near-darkness, the sun a glowing bulb, vague due to the layers of water between them. The sky endless.

When he runs out of breath, he kicks his boots and swims to the surface. The water is cold, clawing at his lungs, but the sun kissing him back to life as soon as he gasps for air. He wipes the blond hair away from his face as he catches his breath.

The army boots are heavy, heavier still due to the water, and his jeans bellow up around his hips as he kicks his legs lazily. His shirt is drying on top of one of the low bushes near the water. Carl had washed his other jeans, socks and shirts and has taken them back to the camp.

Benjamin dunks his head back and rubs a hand through the hair. He swims back to the shore, diving parts of the way just to feel the water swallow him whole and let the world disappear around him. He’s always been a good swimmer, not metal-material but enough to give his parents peace of mind while on their holidays.

His sister had always hated swimming, preferring to tan or play games on the shore. She'd always claimed to be cold while in the water, teeth chattering the moment her body came in contact with liquid, but Benjamin barely feels the cold. He used to spend hours in the water, by himself or with friends he’d made, until his father would call him in for dinner. Fingers wrinkled, cheeks rosy at the dinner table, his parents teasing gently that he would grow gills one day.

He hoists himself up the shore and grabs a bottle of shampoo before sinking back into the water. The silence around him is soothing, only broken by his own noises. For once, he can register the wind brushing through the trees clearly. There are no vicious growls around him, nor quiet footsteps of those who have his back on the latest run.

He squirts some shampoo in his hands and washes his hair quickly, rubbing at his scalp and then smearing it on his chest, washing every inch of skin he can reach. White foam turns grimy under his caresses. He dives down again to rinse his hair out.

He repeats the procedure two more times, once because there’s still some dirt in the blond hair, and the third time just because he can. The bottle lands near the bush with a thud. He kicks his legs and tries to stay afloat, staring up at the clear sky. The heavy boots drag him down after a couple of seconds, forcing him to swim around the lake, diving down every once in a while to indulge in the feeling.

When he comes up for air again, his hand touching the shore, he’s startled by Gabriel, who is towering over him. He brushes his hair out of his eyes. ‘Hi.’

‘Good afternoon,’ the Father says stiffly.

With a grunt, he hoists himself up the shore, sitting in the grass as the water floods off him. The sunlight kisses his skin, warming the flesh as he squints up at the other man. ‘You going in?’

‘No.’

Benjamin nods, ‘ah. Here to condemn me to hell then? Heard what you’d said to Rick.’

‘I will not be the one to condemn you,’ the father says.

‘Sounded like it.’ He kicks the water, causing it to ripple.

‘We will all be judged.’

‘I suppose so,’ the blond says as he runs his hand through his wet hair.

‘The day of judgement will come,’ Gabriel tells him. ‘It’s not too late to repent now.’

‘Repent?’ Benjamin laughs softly. ‘Because I took you in as strangers? Because I fed you, clothed you, visited those who were sick? Wasn’t that the drill? If you have done it for my brothers, you have done it for me, huh? Matthew, I think. Don’t remember which verse. I served your lord even in this world. Is that not enough for you?’

‘Some sins won’t be forgiven.’

‘ _Love_ isn’t forgiven?’ he questions.

Gabriel purses his lips but doesn’t answer.

They look out over the lake together. So serene and quiet.

‘That’s all right,’ Benjamin grunts when he gets up. ‘Because I don’t believe in your interpretation of His word. It’s been translated and twisted so many times, who knows what He meant. And I don’t care about what you believe you know about me.’

‘You have no faith?’

‘Of course I do. But I have faith in Rick’s leadership, in Daryl’s aim, Carol’s heart. In our future too. I might be damned by your standards, but Maggie still includes me in her prayers, so I guess that your word isn’t as gospel as you think.’

Gabriel scoffs, ‘there’s only one way to interpret His word. Those who don’t have faith will burn.’

‘And those who doubt?’

‘They will find the light, if they repent.’

Benjamin shakes his head, ‘always on your terms, huh?’

‘ _His_ terms.’

‘We’ll see,’ the blond decides as he steps closer to the other man. He can see his own reflection in the dark eyes. ‘But in the meanwhile,’ there’s a flash of glistening sunlight between them as Benjamin draws his knife, wet with water and cold when he presses it against the underside of Gabriel’s chin, forcing the Father to look up at the heavens, ‘keep your judgement to yourself. If I hear you’re trash-talking to Rick again, trying to get him to kick me out of the group, I’ll send you to your God early. Do you understand me, Father?’

‘Yes,’ Gabriel says softly, eyes wide.

‘Good,’ Benjamin nods. ‘So glad we had this talk. It was long overdue, I think.’ He sheets the knife with a fluent move. ‘And you really should have a swim. The water is great.’ He stuffs the shampoo back into his backpack and swings it over his shoulders, the material rough against his bare skin. He plucks the shirt from the bush next to it and ties it to his belt, whistling to himself as he starts to head back towards the camp.

When he can see the cars through the trees, a twig snaps to his right. He draws his knife again, adrenaline rushing through his veins, but it’s only Daryl.

The archer ignores the weapon as he quickly darts to the other man, grabbing his arm and hauling him behind a tree.

‘Whoa,’ Benjamin breathes as he’s pushed up against the bark, ‘hello. What’s wrong?’

Daryl glances left and right before answering, ‘you seen Rick today?’

‘Nope, I had guard duty all night and went straight to bed after. He wasn’t there when I woke up, thought Rose said you took him hunting. Why? Is he missing?’

‘No. Seen Eugene?’

‘No,’ Benjamin says, a frown starting to form on his face. ‘I’ve seen Carl, Rosita and Gabriel. Carol gave me lunch, why? What’s wrong?’

‘Somethin’ ain’t right,’ Daryl murmurs. ‘I think he’s sick.’

‘Rick?’

‘Eugene too. They’re coughing.’

Benjamin relaxes and draws out an ‘okay.’

Daryl glares at him, ‘I’m tellin’ ya, somethin’ ain’t right with them.’

‘You said they’re _coughing_?’

‘Rick looked like he was running a fever too.’

Benjamin nods and gives him a small smile, ‘we’ll keep an eye on them, okay? Make sure they drink enough, that they eat. If it gets worse, we need to tell Maggie or Carol, maybe they know some things to stop it. It could be just a cold, you know.’

Daryl shrugs.

‘Hey,’ Benjamin puts a hand on his cheek, forcing the gaze up to his eyes, ‘they’ll be fine. Promise.’

‘Can’t promise that.’

‘Of course I can,’ the blond flashes him a cocky grin. ‘Just did, so I better keep it, huh? Arrow in the ass otherwise.’

A small smile creeps onto Daryl’s face. ‘You got it.’

Benjamin steps away from the trees and hitches his backpack higher by pulling at the straps. ‘I better get back to the camp, need to dry my boots and my jeans are soaked. They’re rubbing my skin raw in the weirdest places.’

Daryl snorts, ‘get to it then.’

His friend nods and presses a kiss to his right cheek before wandering off.

Daryl watches. His gaze roams over the pale skin of Benjamin’s back, the shifting shoulder blades and rippling spine as he bends low to grab a small stick, letting it tap against every tree he passes. The lean hips, the low-riding wet jeans, the blond hair that is stubbornly sticking up…

‘Hey!’

Benjamin stops and turns. The dog tags catch the light, but Daryl’s eye is drawn to the pale chest, the faint outline of ribs, darker nipples and that trail of hair which leads from his belly button downwards. The blond lifts an eyebrow, looking down at himself as if there’s something wrong. ‘What?’

‘Nothin’, I, err.’ Daryl is glad that the other man is too far away to catch the faint blush that’s creeping up via his neck. ‘I’ll see ya at dinner.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Benjamin says, a bit nonplussed. Then he gapes at his friend, ‘did you just call out so you could sneak a peek?’

‘What? No, fuck off.’

‘You did!’ Benjamin laughs, one arm coming up to obscure his face. ‘Oh my God!’

Daryl grinds his teeth together, feeling stupid. Anger flares in the pit of his stomach, ‘what the fuck are you laughing at? I didn’t mean nothing –‘

‘ _Thank the Lord_ ,’ Benjamin moans as he pretends to swoon and lets himself fall against a tree, arms looping around it. The grin is so wide, it’s ridiculous.

‘What the hell?’

‘What?’ the blond asks. ‘It’s nice to know that someone wants you.’

Daryl just looks at him, processing that.

‘Makes me happy,’ his friend shrugs, ‘when you, you know… It’s pretty clear that I think you are beautiful, inside and out, and I do know that you think I am… handsome-ish, but it’s nice to see it, you know? It’s always me reaching for you, that’s not me bitching, but…’ He shrugs. ‘I dunno. It doesn't matter.’

Daryl opens his mouth to say something but then closes it again. He wipes his nose on his shoulder, desperate to hide behind something.

Benjamin smiles at him, ‘stop stressing. I like the fact that you like me. That’s it.’

Daryl nods. ‘Okay.’

‘Is that an admission?’ the blond teases. He straightens up again, ‘but yes; you will see me at dinner tonight. Be careful out here.’

‘I’ll be alright,’ Daryl mutters with a hand on his knife and the other holding on to the band of his crossbow. ‘And hey,’ he says when Benjamin walks away. The blond looks over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. ‘You… err.’ He shrugs, ‘you look good today.’

‘ _Today_?’ He looks down at the ratty jeans and army boots. ‘Is it the nakedness?’

‘No. Jesus. Just,’ he nods a little, tilting his chin higher in defiance, ‘you look good.’

Benjamin pulls at the straps of his backpack, wobbling on his feet for a second. ‘Thanks.’

They look at each other, blue eyes clashing with green's. Of course there's a small smile lingering in Benjamin's features. He bites on his lower lip in an attempt to hide it. It doesn't work. He just smiles around the teeth, lips now redder and inviting, but too far away for Daryl to let him lean in. Neither one of them moves.

'Well, you can fuck me with your eyes any time, but these jeans really are rubbing at my...'

'Good Lord, get gone then,' Daryl groans. His eyes, however, are drawn down to where the jeans cling to the man's thighs, wet and almost black now. 'Remember to check on Rick.'

'Don't talk about Rick when you're eye-fucking me, Daryl Dixon.' 

'That ain't even a damn verb, thought ya scholars were so keen on those kind of things.'

Benjamin wiggles his eyebrows, 'I got _you_ and _fucking_ and _me_ in a sentence, I don't even care how it happened, but it did and I'm pretty pleased with myself at the moment. And, you know, people make words up all the time. It might not be an actual word, but obviously it's a _thing_ and you were doing it so I made it a word. Sue me. Or, you know, just keep doing what you're doing while I swagger back to camp, feeling all hot and bothered.'

Daryl shakes his head fondly, 'you're batshit crazy.' He looks around the forest. There's nobody there. It's just them out here, he realizes, nobody watching, nobody listening. Nobody judging. 'That thing you said, the other day about...' he trails off and scowls at a nearby tree for a second. 'About what you wanted?' 

'Photographic memory for things I read, not things I say, Daryl,' Benjamin reminds him, 'and I say a million things a day, or so you keep telling me. What did I want? Was it about that trip to Canada, because that was totally a joke, I mean, they have snow and I hate-'

'To suck me off,' Daryl blurts, 'ya said ya wanted to suck me off.'

Green eyes blink. 'I did. I do,' he corrects when the hunter frowns. 'I mean; I said it and still want to. Why?'

Daryl bites on his thumb, doesn't meet his friend's eye. 'Thinkin' about it,' he admits. 'don't want nothin' from ya now, just, you know, as we were, but... I'm thinkin' about it, I'll, err, I'll just let you know when I... Yeah...'

'Yeah, you just let me know what and when you decide, all right? It's fine if you don't want it, now or ever.' The blond leans against the tree, arms crossed in front of his chest. 'If you've got any questions, you know you can ask me, right?' 

'Fuckin' know how a blowjob works, jackass.' 

'I meant _other_ things,' Benjamin says.

Daryl glares at him, 'don't have no damn _questions_.' 

'Okay,' his friends holds his hands up in surrender. 'Just let me know then, whenever. It's no big deal, you know that right? I'm fine with what we are now. More than fine, really, hot and bothered, even. But that's not even because you - I mean, in order to achieve that you just have to walk past a couple of times a day. And never wear sleeves. I'd say lose the shirt entirely, but I know you hate it when Rosita drools on you, did you hear what she said about- omg, you didn't, you weren't there, listen up, okay? Your arms came up in our conversation - what? It happens! - and then she said _Abe's_ arms were...' 

The hunter leans against a tree and listens to a story he doesn't give a damn about, which leads to another story and a joke and then a quote from an obscure writer he's never heard of until he finds himself relaxing against the bark of the tree, laughing along with his friend's stories. The blond sinks into the tall grass, leaning back against his own tree and plucking at his drying jeans while grinning. The sun beats down on them. Daryl runs a hand through his long hair. Then he sinks to his hunches and tells Benjamin one of his own stories about the time Merle got arrested and tried to flee the house naked, making it all the way down to that diner down on Main too. 

Benjamin laughs at that.

Daryl grins and reaches into his pocket for a cigarette. He rolls it around between his fingers but doesn't light it. He gets up again. 'Gonna hike a bit, scout ahead. See you at dinner.'

'Be careful.

'Hmm-hmm.' And with a last smirk, he vanishes between the trees. 


	7. Ain't no common cold, brother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!

 

 

 

‘Oh my God,’ Benjamin breathes, his hands clawing at Daryl’s back, nails scraping over the wings as he tilts his head back, exposing more of his neck.

‘Tell me about it,’ Daryl growls against the sensitive flesh. He opens his mouth, letting his tongue trail up to the strong jawline before dipping low and biting the spot where Benjamin’s neck meets his shoulder. A hand disappears beneath the dirty shirt, pawing at abs before gliding up so his palm is pressed over a nipple and beating heart.

Benjamin groans and his hips buck into Daryl’s involuntarily, ‘get back up here,’ he grins before steering Daryl’s face back to his with a hand, capturing the lips in a searing kiss.

The hunter grunts and pushes the other man up against the tree, the bark rough when he leans against it, bracing himself with one hand. There’s a hand in his hair, tugging and pulling. He feels dizzy as his blood boils in his veins.

‘Yeah, oh fuck,’ Benjamin groans as his trembling hands undo the buttons of his shirt, pushing it down his arms and back before letting it drop to the forest floor and looping his arms back around Daryl’s neck. His naked chest against the hunter’s clothed one, his back against the bark of the tree.

Daryl’s left hand strokes his side for a second, before it rounds on his ass, then the top of his thigh, hitching his leg up so Benjamin can hook it around his leg, slotting their groins together. He rubs a thumb over an exposed nipple, causing the blond man’s breath to catch in his throat.

‘You like that?’ he asks while biting at the other man’s mouth, ‘huh?’

Benjamin gives him a breathless laugh, fingers tightening on the vest, ‘love that.’ He licks at Daryl’s upper lip before kissing him again, wet and hot. ‘Oh God,’ he moans when Daryl rolls his hips experimentally. ‘You’re going to make me come in my jeans like some sort of total teenager, you ass.’

‘Light weight,’ Daryl mocks against his lips, even though he can’t quite control his own breathing anymore and his heartrate is going too fast to be healthy.

‘’s a fucking compliment, ah, damn, fuck you’re gorgeous, look at you.’

The hunter’s pupils are blown wide, hauntingly dark behind his bangs when he looks at his friend, lips glistening with wetness. He rocks his hips again, causing more friction between them. ‘Fuck, babe,’ he sighs, letting his head rest in the crook of Benjamin’s neck so he can catch his breath for a second.

‘My eyes!’

‘I did _not_ have to see that! Jesus Christ…’                                              

‘The Lord’s name.’

‘Sorry, Maggie.’

Daryl rips himself away from Benjamin, stumbling with the sudden force. He glances side-ways to see Michonne there with Glenn and Maggie at her side. The Korean has his back turned to them, pointedly looking in another direction while Michonne leers openly.

‘What the fuck are all y’all doin’ here?’ Daryl snarls as he wipes at his mouth and tries to straighten his shirt.

‘Didn’t come here for the show,’ the dark-skinned woman smirks. ‘We made plenty of noise for you to hear us coming.’

‘Was kinda busy!’ Daryl hisses back as he steps forward again, shielding Benjamin with his own body. The younger man is still leaning against the tree, eyes closed in what Daryl supposes is mortification.

Maggie clears her throat. There’s a fond smile on her face. ‘You can turn around now, Glenn. They’re decent.’

The Korean turns on the spot, ‘good. Sorry, guys.’

Daryl glances over his shoulder at his friend, who slowly opens his eyes and takes a deep breath. He looks anything but decent. The blond hair is a complete mess from where Daryl ran his hands through it and there’s a dark spot in his neck from the hunter’s teeth and lips. The green eyes are hooded, a small smirk teases the corners of his wet lips. He licks them before he pushes himself away from the tree.

‘It’s fine,’ he mutters when he grabs his shirt and drapes it over his shoulders.

‘It sure is,’ Michonne leers teasingly as her eyes roam Benjamin’s body.

‘Why don’t ya just tell us why ya’re here,’ Daryl snaps, making a throw-away gesture at the woman with his right hand, ‘instead of droolin’ at him like some bitch in heat! Look at ya. Ya missin’ ya girlfriend Andrea or somethin’, huh? Fuckin’ pussy punch-’

‘ _Daryl_ ,’ Benjamin says sharply.

The word is enough to make the hunter fall silent. He grinds his teeth together, eyes narrow and dark with anger as he stares Michonne down. The infamous Dixon glare.

Her hands curl around the band of her katana. But she’s never one to back down from any kind of fight. ‘Have you ever been your own person, Dixon?’ she asks calmly. ‘Or are you all just bad copies of each other? Was the gene pool really that small?’ Her eyes narrow as the smirk returns viciously. ‘What would your beloved brother say about this, hmm? His little brother a…’

‘Don’t ya dare say it!’ Daryl challenges, he steps forward, body language threatening and a hostile grimace on his face. He looks like he wants to leap towards the woman, but Benjamin steps forward and grabs his shoulder, holding him back.

'Cut it out,' he hisses, jostling his shoulder. 'And you,' he glares at the woman, 'now you're just asking for it.'

Glenn steps forward and holds his hands out, voice low and soothing, 'calm down. We've got a situation.'

Daryl's eyes flash at the Korean. He shrugs Benjamin's hand off with an irritated gesture. 'Go on then,' he bites out when Glenn doesn't immediately continue.

'It's Rick,' Maggie says. 'He's been throwing up all morning. We think it might be some kind of virus, and it's spreading. Eugene isn't feeling good. Rosita is throwing up now too.'

Benjamin frowns as he buttons his shirt, 'Rose? She was feeling fine when I left her an hour or so ago.'

Michonne shifts her weight and tilts her chin higher, 'and now she's throwing her guts up.'

''s spreading fast then,' Daryl says. The anger slowly starts to leave his posture. 'What do ya need us for?'

'It’s Rick,' Glenn sighs, 'he's not... he won't listen to us. I think we need to quarantine the sick, get to a place with shelter, see what it is. What if it's the flu from the prison again? What if Judith gets it? Or Carl! Hell, it wiped out _half_ of our community! No one was safe from-‘

‘Relax,’ Benjamin says as he closes the last button on his shirt, ‘relax, we don’t know anything yet. It could be nothing. It could be just the flu, like at the library. Noah had a stomach bug a week ago, maybe it stuck around, okay? Let’s just keep calm. Yes,’ he says when Glenn opens his mouth again, ‘we _should_ quarantine them.’

Daryl scoffs. ‘we’re in the middle of fuckin’ nowhere. We ain’t even got rooms to quarantine them.’

‘Then what do you propose we do?’ Benjamin asks him.

‘Let me talk to Rick,’ the hunter says. ‘We’ll work something out.’

‘He’s not thinking straight,’ Glenn argues, ‘we tried to talk to him, but…’

'Then what did you come and get us for, huh?' The archer demands as he steps up to his friend, getting in his face. 'Y'all know what needs to be done, so do it. Make sure the sick stay away from the others, especially the kids. Maggie, you and Ben should go through what meds we have, see if there's something that can help them out. Glenn; hold the perimeter, walk the border with Sasha and Tara. Let me deal with Rick.'

The small group nods and exchanges glances.

Michonne pushes one of her dreads behind her left ear, 'and me?'

'Stay with Carl and Judith. Keep them out of trouble. Give the boy some chores to do while we sort things out.'

There's a tense moment during which they exchange a look. Then the woman dips her chin in a nod. 'Sure. I’ll keep him busy.’

‘Good,’ Benjamin says as he runs a hand through his hair and swings his backpack back on. ‘Oh, and guys? This private viewing? For your eyes and ears only, okay?’ He shoots Daryl a warning glare when the archer’s hands ball into fists. ‘We don’t need Gabriel trying to do an exorcism on me, I don’t think.’

‘Seems he’s got more than one on his hands,’ Michonne says with a look at Daryl.

‘Fuck you!’

Benjamin rolls his eyes, ‘I don’t think he quite realizes what’s going on here. The redneck white trash look is working in Daryl’s favor, apparently he doesn’t need saving as badly as I do. Let’s keep him focused on me and my supposed unrequited crush, okay? Come on, get going.’

The rest of the small group turns on the spot and darts away. The blond man lingers for a second, pretending to fix his belt and knife. He glances over at Daryl, ‘did you call me _babe_ just now, by the way?’

Daryl tilts his chin higher, ‘was about to come in my pants, you little shit, who the fuck pays attention to what they’re sayin’ then?’

'You're too cute.' The hunter bristles at that but Benjamin just grins as he starts after their friends. 'Make up with Michonne, all right?' he throws over his shoulder. 'You know she means well.'

Daryl grunts before turning on his heels and walking off into the opposite direction.

 

 

Rick is sitting on a boulder near the lake. He looks out over the water. The flannel shirt is soaked, but Daryl can't be sure whether it's by sweat or water. The dark curls are clinging to his forehead. He needs to trim his beard. It's starting to get out of control, as Michonne loves to point out every morning.

The rustling of the bushes attracts the cop's attention. His head snaps up, hand going to his knife, but he relaxes when Daryl raises his hands in mock-surrender.

Blue eyes dart around. His sinks back onto his hunches when no one else comes forward. 'Did they send out a 5150 code?' His voice is rough and mocking.

‘Ain’t no pig,’ Daryl reminds him as he steps onto the boulder and surveys the area. A walker is stumbling around the forest on their left. It hasn’t noticed them. He raises his bow and takes aim, staring down the visor, a red dot on the walker’s skull.

‘Thought you might had learned from the backseat of a cruiser.’

 Daryl snorts and lowers the bow without firing off a bolt. The target is too far away. 'Never had no problem with the law,' he says as he squints to look between the trees for another target. In the end he just trains his bow on a branch, keeping it steady as he lowers his heartrate and evens out his breathing. 'That was all Merle.'

It doesn't surprise him that Rick thinks that he’d occupied that infamous backseat more than once. It doesn't even sting.

There were a lot of moments in his life when he could have been turned in. He just always slipped right under that radar, his misdemeanors not quite that bad to be thrown into jail for, his feet too quick to get caught, damn pigs more focused on reeling big fish like Merle in than the little shadow of a brother. Of course, he knows that even though he was never caught, that doesn't mean that he never belonged in jail. He's done a lot of shady things.

Rick looks up at him. His cheeks are flaming red. 'Mental case,' he rasps. 'The code, it's for a mental case.'

Daryl nods and lowers the bow again. The muscles in his arms relax. He shakes them out for good measure. 'Korea thinks you're off your game.'

'And they've send in the cavalry.'

 The hunter shrugs, 'you'd rather have Michonne here, bustin' ya balls?'

'No.'

When Rick doesn’t continue, Daryl sighs. 'Pullin' a dead horse here, officer. Gonna spit it out or what?'

'Spit what out?'

'Why ya're blushin' like virgin Mary at me, is this sweat?' He plucks at the flannel shirt. 'Fuck, you stink, man.’ He wrinkles his nose. ‘Worse than them walkers you are.'

Rick coughs and grimaces, batting at his friend's hand, 'get your hands off of me. I think I got a cold.'

'Ain't no common cold, man,' Daryl says as he narrows his eyes at his friend. 'Look at ya.'

'When did you get your medical degree?' Rick snipes.

 ‘Don’t need no degree,’ Daryl mutters as he sinks to one knee so they’re on eye level. ‘So what’s the plan then?’

Rick wipes at his forehead. The fingers come away, wet with sweat. He rubs at his chest and sighs. ‘We push south, like we’ve been doing. We need to get to that army base. It’ll be safe. We can clear it.’

Daryl bites his thumb as he leans on his knee, looking out over the woods and lake.

‘What?’ Rick snarls.

‘Ain’t never gonna make it, man,’ Daryl answers. ‘We’re runnin’ out of food. We’re boilin’ water, but… ain’t got no food. No ammo. People are getting sick. It’s not just you. Eugene, Rosita, they’re sick too. We’ll run out of gas before we even get half-way.’

‘There’s no other option. We _have_ to make it.’

Daryl shakes his head and sighs, shoulder slumping. He feels tired. Every night he snaps awake when someone moves, coughs, when a twig snaps somewhere in the darkness, when the calm of the night is pierced by someone having a nightmare. They haven’t had a restful night since they left the library. ‘I dunno,’ he murmurs. ‘’s a long shot.’

‘It always is now,’ Rick agrees. ‘There’s no easy road here, no faster way, we just have to pull through.’ He coughs and grimaces, massaging his chest.

‘Ya lungs hurt?’ Daryl asks as he rummages around in his bag to get his water bottle out.

Rick takes it with a grateful nod, taking careful sips. He waits a couple of seconds and then throws the bottle onto the floor, sliding off the boulder and throwing up again.

Daryl watches as his friend doubles over. Sick splatters on the dark boots. He waits until Rick just dry-heaves and then gets up to stretch. His muscles pull when he reaches for the heavens, groaning low in his throat. ‘All right,’ he says as he jumps down next to his best friend. ‘You’re all right, here,’ he picks the bottle back up, ‘just rinse and spit.’

The former cop does as he’s told.

It doesn’t take much coaxing after that for Daryl to lead Rick down towards the lake. The other man follows lifelessly, eyes dull as he holds on to his midriff, arms folded over his ribs and stomach. He looks far smaller than he is.

The hunter pushes him down on the edge of the lake, ordering him to take his boots off.

‘I can do it,’ Rick murmurs when Daryl reaches down to wash the sick off of them.

‘Got it. Take off your shirt, it’s fuckin’ soaked.’

It takes Rick a couple of minutes. His hands shake when he tries to work the small buttons. He groans when he finally pulls the fabric off his sweat-soaked skin. ‘Disgusting.’

‘Yeah, ya are,’ Daryl agrees as he takes the shirt and dunks it.

With trembling fingers, Rick pulls his python out of the holster and lays it down next to his friend. Then the knife. He slides closer to the edge and slowly lets himself sink into the water. ‘Fuckin’ hell it’s cold,’ he shudders.

‘’course it’s goddamn cold,’ Daryl smirks. ‘Stop bein’ such a pussy. Dip down, wash that mess ya call hair.’

Rick does as he’s told, rubbing his hand through the wet curls and shaking them out before clambering back onto the shore. He lies down in the grass, panting. The small effort seems to have taken a lot out of him.

They’re silent while Daryl washes his stuff. When he’s done, Daryl lets himself flop down next to him, feeling his back mold into the ground beneath him. He shifts a bit, finding a better patch and then watches how the clouds drift over them.

‘We’re going to quarantine ya,’ the hunter says with a sigh. ‘Try to keep away from Carl, ass kicker, everyone.’

Rick coughs, spine arching of the ground for a second before nodding. ‘Yeah, okay.’

‘Glenn’s got the perimeter.’

‘Good.’ Rick sighs and covers his eyes with his hand. ‘Daryl?’

‘Hmm?’

‘I don’t feel so good.’

Daryl snorts. ‘No shit, officer. Gonna puke again?’

‘No.’ It sounds more like a painful moan than a real word. ‘Just feel like shit.’

‘Ain’t no common cold, huh?’

Rick grimaces beneath his hand, ‘ain’t no common cold, brother.’

Daryl hums and folds an arm below his head, using it as a pillow. ‘Tough as nails, you are,’ he says. ‘You’ll be all right.’

Rick curls up on his side so he’s looking at the hunter’s profile. ‘You’ll look after them, right? I know it’s not a fair thing to ask of you, you already do more than your share, but… Judith, Carl… If something…’ He shifts again, feet restless, ‘you got them, right?’

Daryl turns his head so he can meet his friend’s eye. ‘Yeah. I got ‘em, man.’

‘Good,’ Rick closes his eyes. ‘I’m going to puke again.’

‘Do what ya gotta,’ the hunter shrugs just as Rick sits up and turns around so he’s on his hands and knees. He throws up again. It’s just acid by now, his stomach empty. It’s painful. He groans and spits to rinse his mouth.

Daryl watches the clouds. He listens to the pathetic groans coming from his best friend and thinks about how the hell they’re going to get out of this mess.

 


	8. Trailer parks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Surprise update because I've had a shitty day and couldn't sleep. Yay! Hope you all like it.  
> Stay safe, tell your people you love them and end the year with a well-deserved party; happy new year in advance!
> 
> (And, yup; this is just extra. We're starting off the new year with another update to ease the hang overs, haha!)

 

* * *

 

 

‘So this is where you’re hiding.’

The night spreads out before him like an oil stain. The wind is howling around him, tugging at his clothes and hair, nearly pushing him off the edge of the trailer. His boots slip on the ridge, soles scraping over metal as he adjusts his stance. With narrowed eyes, he looks out over the grounds.

The other trailers are mere shadows before him. The moon hides behind clouds, robbing him of the advantages of his higher ground. There's a fire going in one of the trailers at the very end of the park. He can see the soft light even though the blinds are drawn. Sometimes a shadow moves in front of the window, someone moving around inside. He recognizes Carl's smaller form, but the others are just a blur.

It feels strange to be back in a trailer park. He never thought he'd spend another night in one of these places. Not after he'd finally managed to keep a job long enough to be able to afford a shitty apartment with no heating and leaking pipes. He hadn't cared. Everywhere was better than one of them trailer parks where he'd grown up in.

In this darkness, he can still see himself slipping around corners, hands on the various trailers, feet digging into the mud, chasing after the mocking laughter of his older brother. With their childhood home in ashes, they'd moved into a dingy little trailer, him, Merle and their pop.

He hadn't hated it, in the beginning, even though it was cramped and too hot in summer, too cold in winter. But Merle left and their dad drowned in anger and alcohol. The walls of the trailers were so thin; someone must have heard. Everyone must have known, but no one dared to cross Will Dixon. People turned a blind eye to the wrangly kid with the small eyes and nasty sneer on his face. They ignored the black eyes, the hunched shoulders, the way his arms curled around cracked ribs.

He's not that kid anymore, though he used to spend his nights in exactly the same way as he's doing now. Standing on top of the trailer, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and the wind whispering to him about faraway places he'll never ever see.

'Ain't hiding.'

'Sure you aren't.' Michonne appears beside him. The wind tugs at her dreadlocks and shirt. The night nearly swallows her, hiding her away from this world, enfolding her in the darkness. Daryl wishes he could melt into it like that.

He takes a drag of his cigarette and thinks that it might have already conquered him. From the inside out.

'What do ya want now?' He asks.

'What?' She cocks her head to the side. 'No racial slurs? Why, Dixon, you disappoint me.'

'Don't want to be no one trick pony.'

She laughs at that, just a huff of breath in the night. They stand side by side. Her shirt brushes against his, but he can't even feel her body heat. When he looks at her, a glance out of the corner of his eye, he gives her a hesitant smile.

She bumps their shoulders together, even though she doesn't meet his eye.

'What are we going to do?'

'I don't know.' He feels lost. The question keeps coming back to him, asked by Michonne, by Maggie, by Glenn, by Tara, by Abe, by Carol. And he doesn't know. He doesn't have an answer for this.

'We need to leave,' Michonne says as she turns her body to his, as if she wants to meet him head on.

'Don't got nowhere to go,' he mutters. 'There's just fumes left in the tanks. We haven't found any good gas in days, we're down to the last cans of food Benjamin gave us.'

'It's not safe here.'

'I know.'

The signs along the roads started to change ten miles ago. Where there used to be only decomposing walkers strung up or nailed down against the road signs, there are now messages. To go south. That it's near. There's food there, the signs claim, water, protection. They have a doctor. It's close, not far now, they're almost there. Everyone is welcome. Sharing is caring.

He doesn't know what to think of that, but his gut tells him to run, hard and far. But they can't.

Somewhere in the trailer park, Rick is slipping away from them. What had started out as a cough seems to mutate inside his body, changing from raging fevers to aching lungs and a burning pain inside his chest. He claims it's his heart. He's unconscious most of the time, lost in fever dreams or taken by something far more deadly, until he opens his eyes and talks to Lori, to Hershel. Some nights he laughs with Shane.

It's not just Rick, either. Rosita isn't faring any better. Neither is Eugene. Last night they had to send Sasha to the quarantine zone.

It's just a cold, she'd claimed. But so had Rick, in the early days.

'They will come back,' Michonne urges in a hushed whisper.

Daryl nods.

The road signs weren't the only thing to announce the presence of another group. He's found tire tracks. Fresh ones, maybe two days old, left by a large truck with a heavy load.

Only yesterday, Tara came back from the woods with a frightened look in her eye and shaking hands. _People_ , she'd hissed to the one on guard, Carol, _there are people in the woods_.

He'd found their tracks too. In the late afternoon, once he'd returned from his latest hunt, she'd led him a few miles out to a clearing. There had been several footprints, overlapping too much for him to be able to tell how many people there had been exactly. Seven at least. Probably more than that. They'd walked aimlessly as far as he could tell. A patrol.

He doesn't think that they had been looking for his group. They'd banked left before getting near the trailer park. Still, he considers it a close call.

'Daryl,' Michonne presses.

'We can't move. We got shelter here. Done told you; the tanks are empty.'

'Send Glenn out on a run.'

The redneck tilts his chin higher and folds his arms in front of his chest. He doesn't like the idea of splitting them up. They're already spread so thin. Dropping like flies, he muses, again.

'Let _me_ go then,' the woman hisses when he doesn't answer. 'I can go on foot if you want, scout ahead.'

He bites the inside of his cheek. 'We'll discuss it in the morning, see what the others all think, I...'

She scoffs.

He glances at her. 'What?'

She leans back, palms of her hands upwards, eyebrows drawn together in a frown. 'I don't want to burst your bubble here, Dixon, but they don't have any bright ideas anymore. They're _scared_! Maggie's taking care of the sick and Glenn losing his mind out there, just waiting for her to start coughing. Any day now,' she warns. 'Carol checked out, Daryl. She checked out a while ago.'

The cigarette is down to the filter now. He takes a last drag, feeling the taste change from tobacco to scorched plastic on his tongue. The smoke stings his eyes. With a flick of his wrist, he throws the spend cigarette down the trailer. The small glowing dot dies in darkness.

'I know,' he mutters. 'She'll come back.'

‘We need her _now_.’

He finally turns to face her, stepping into her space, ‘you don’t know what the hell you’re talkin’ about. Leave her be.’

Of course he’d seen her slip away from them. He sees it in the way her eyes dull and how sorry she looks whenever her gaze falls on Judith. She kisses the toddler’s forehead every night in a goodbye. Maybe, in her mind, she looks like Sophia. And she knows that they’re going to lose her too, just like they’re losing her father now.

‘We need someone,’ Michonne says, ‘to take Rick’s place.’

‘So step up,’ he hisses back, careful to keep his voice down. Noise travels a long way during the night.

The dark-skinned woman just looks at him, her face impassive. The deep brown eyes don’t quite meet his eye. She focusses on his cheek, where the beauty spot marks his skin. He remembers talking to an old Chinese lady once, trying to bum a cigarette off of her while hanging out on the stoop of her shop. She didn’t smoke, but did offer him some of her traditional medicine, for a fair price. One look at the mark on his cheek, foot problems, she’d told him. That’s what the spot had meant. He’d scoffed, called her an old fool before slouching away to find someone else to annoy. She’d called out to him that he’d best avoid any water-related incidents. It might be the death of him, with that mark.

He’d flicked her off.

Now he knows she’d been crazy. _Water_. He scoffs at the thought of it.

Michonne shifts her weight. It drags his mind back to the present. He knows what she’s trying to say, even though she isn’t putting it in words.

‘Glenn…’

She scoffs again.

‘We’ve been doin’ all right so far.’

‘Because of you.’

He grinds his teeth together. Everyone is looking at him. It makes him sick because he doesn’t know what to do. ‘Done told ya; we’ll discuss it tomorrow.’

 

 

The next morning Benjamin is missing.

Someone thinks they saw him walking towards the stream with his shaving cream and razorblade, his toothbrush in his mouth, while others claim he banked left before reaching the body of water.

Noah is send out to check the lake while Carol scouts the woods, but both return to Glenn with a fearful look on their faces. There’s no sign of him anywhere. It’s almost mid-morning when they decide to wake Daryl up. He’s been on guard duty all night.

Glenn kneels beside his bed, a careful hand on his brother’s shoulder. ‘Daryl, wake up man.’

The hunter grunts and turns his back on the noise. His vest rides up his back. The edges of scars and tattoos peek out from beneath the leather.

‘Come on,’ Glenn urges, pulling at the shoulder now to get Daryl to roll over and face him. ‘ _Daryl_.  Wake up.’

Daryl groans and stretches, his feet kicking the wall of the trailer. The heavy boots leave a filthy smudge of mud behind. He blinks, yawns and then squints at the figure of his friend. ‘The fuck do ya want, Korea?’

‘It’s Benjamin.’

One hand comes up to rub the sleep out of Daryl’s eyes. ‘What the fuck’s he done now?’

‘He left.’

The hand stills. ‘What?’

‘No one has seen him since this morning. He must have slipped away during the watch change. He left most of his stuff here but his backpack is gone.’

‘Maybe he’s just taking a piss somewhere,’ Daryl grumbles as he sits up. He runs a hand through his hair and swings his legs off the bed, boots stomping down on the floor.

‘Watch change was at sunrise,’ Glenn answers with a concerned look on his face. ‘It’s noon now.’

Anxiety spikes within Daryl. He pulls the curtain aside to check the sun, finding that it is indeed noon. He curses under his breath and shrugs out of his vest, reaching for one of his shirts. Glenn hands it to him.  ‘No one’s seen him go?’

‘Tara thinks she saw him go, but she thought he was just going down the creek to shave. He does that every morning, but he hasn’t come back.’ Glenn shakes his head when Daryl opens his mouth, ‘we checked the creek. No sign of him. We can’t be sure he even went down there.’

‘Fucking hell,’ Daryl pushes himself off the bed, grabbing his vest and backpack on his way out of the door. His crossbow hangs from a hook by the door. He swings it over his shoulder before jumping out of the trailer.

Maggie and Carol are standing nearby, arms crossed and a worried look marring their faces. Maggie bites her lips but her shoulders relax slightly when she spots the hunter.

‘You think something happened to him?’ Glenn asks, hot on his heels.

‘Dunno,’ Daryl says while walking up to his friends. ‘Did he take food, water?’

‘What?’ Carol asks, ‘you think he might have left?’

‘Well he ain’t here, is he?’

‘He wouldn’t leave,’ Maggie says with a roll of her eyes. ‘Something must have happened.’

Daryl scoffs.

Glenn sighs and shakes his head, ‘of course he wouldn’t just leave. Maybe he’s gone off to find more food or gas. You know what he’s like. He knows we need it.’

‘Maybe you can go down to the creek,’ Carol says with a glance at Daryl. ‘There might be some tracks or something to tell if…’

‘Think I’m some kind of damn sniffer dog?’ Daryl snarls, ‘that place is covered in prints, we go down there every single day! If he left, he left. Won’t do us no damn good to try and find him now, hell, we don’t even know where to start lookin’. He could be anywhere.’

‘So you won’t even try?’

‘Nah,’ the hunter huffs. ‘He’s a big boy. I’m goin’ back to bed.’ He catches Carol’s eye, sees the disappointment there. ‘He chose this,’ Daryl hisses, stepping into her personal space. ‘We’re up to our necks in shit, tryin’ to keep this group together. _Alive_. And he ran, okay? Fuckin’ get over it. Either he’ll be back, or he won’t be. Nothing we can do about it.’

‘I never imagined you’d give up on us so quickly,’ Carol says quietly. ‘On any of us.’

‘You don’t know shit about me,’ Daryl snarls even though the words burn on his tongue. Lies. ‘Wake me up for dinner.’

He stomps back to his bed, slamming the door of the trailer behind him.

He doesn’t sleep.

 

 

A surprised shout attracts his attention hours later. He rises to his feet, hand moving to grab the gun from the back of his jeans, but Carol’s voice is filled with elation instead of terror. He glances at Glenn. His brother nods and together they walk towards the edge of their camp.

There they find Carol.

She’s being swung around by a laughing Benjamin. The blond hair is hidden by his hoodie, a black one now, and there’s mud on his face, streaks of filth running over pale skin, but there doesn’t seem to be any blood on him.

‘Thank God,’ Glen sighs beside him, putting his hands on his knees and doubling over in relief.

‘What?’ Benjamin asks as he puts Carol down, curling an arm around her frame, ‘you didn’t think I’d left, right? Now, that would just be silly, I was just…’

‘You were just _what_?’ Daryl cuts in, voice harsh and punishing.

Benjamin lets the arm drop, posture tensing. ‘I found their camp.’

‘You what?’ Glenn asks now, head snapping up.

‘I found their camp,’ the blond repeats. ‘Those guys who nearly stumbled upon ours? I found their camp, it’s fucking big too. They got high walls, a watch tower, vehicles, guns, it’s fucking crazy. It’s like an actual town! There are kids there. Women, teenagers.’

‘What the fuck were you doing out there?’ Glenn asks.

‘They said they had food, medicine, on those signs, right? I thought; maybe I can sneak in, lift some of it, but, like I said; they got high walls. No one gets in there without being seen.’

‘Were you?’

‘Of course not,’ Benjamin says with a huff of laughter, ‘I’m still here, aren’t I? Didn’t lead them back either. I double backed a million times.’

Daryl doesn’t say anything. He turns on his heels and walks away.

‘Hey!’ the younger man shouts as he runs after him. He rounds on his friend, stopping him in his tracks. ‘I’m sorry for not saying anything, okay, but I’m back now. No harm done.’

Daryl pushes past him.

‘Jesus, Daryl, I’m sorry!’

The hunter ignores him.

Benjamin darts forward again, grabbing his shoulder, ‘can you _please_ talk to me?’

‘What, _now_ you wanna talk?’ Daryl asks as he yanks his arm free. ‘Weren’t so keen when ya decided to risk everything, now were ya? Didn’t bother to stop and think what would have happened if they’d caught you, huh? All of this,’ he points around them, to Glenn and Carol, to the trailer which harbors Carl, Noah and Judith, ‘this could have all come crashing down because of you.’

‘It’s already crashing down, Daryl. I had to do _something_.’

‘Tell it to Carol,’ he hisses, stepping closer to his friend, ‘she’s been cryin’ her eyes out since this morning. Tell it to Carl too, while ya’re at it! They thought you’d fuckin’ died, man.’

‘Is that what this is about? That they thought I’d died? Or because you thought I’d left you?’

‘Fuck you,’ Daryl grabs his shirt and hauls him close, growling in his face, ‘stay or go, I’m done with-‘

A coughing fit interrupts them. They look to their left.

The door of one of the trailers opens. Michonne stumbles out, a hand over her mouth and the other one pressed to her chest. She falls to her knees, coughing.

‘Oh no,’ Benjamin breathes.

Daryl lets go of him.

Michonne slowly pulls her hand away from her mouth. She looks at it with wide, frightened eyes.

It’s stained with blood.


	9. Whatever it takes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I hope you all had a great night.   
> Next chapter will be the last one for this part of the series. Crazy. Thanks for the support, it means a lot to me!

 

* * *

 

 

The wind is howling around them. It bites their skin, far too cold for a summer evening, and causes the hairs on their arms to rise. Their shoulders are hunched, defeated shadows on the horizon as they stand on top of one of the trailers. The sky is dark. There is no moon.

Benjamin hides in his hoodie. The dark fabric covers his blond hair and shields the tips of his ears from the wind. The sleeves are pulled over his hands. He has given his gloves to Noah. Dirty fingernails worry at the hems of the sleeves. To stay warm, he kicks his feet, heavy army boots scraping over the plastic and metal of the thin roof. He has washed his face, the mud replaced by shadows. He looks far older than his twenty six years.

The green gaze flickers to his friend, who is standing beside him.

Daryl doesn’t seem bothered by the cold. His longer hair looks black in the darkness, missing its usual auburn hue. The wind teases the strands, pushing and pulling them in and out of the hunter’s face. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up past his elbows. He wears his vest but the wings are barely visible in the night. Hunger has made his features more prominent. Cheekbones sharp and eyes sunken.

‘Tell me about the camp.’

The wind nearly takes Daryl’s words for its own. His voice is unusually soft.

Benjamin shivers. It’s not just from the cold. ‘It’s big,’ he answers. ‘It used to be a small town, I think, but it’s big for these times. Maybe eighty people, ninety. Strong men, women, but children too. There were a couple of boys. They were playing tag on the town square.’

Daryl looks away. He doesn’t care about some damn kids.

‘They have walls,’ his friend continues. ‘High ones, look pretty secure, no sneaking over or through. It’s tight. They’ve built a watchtower in the town square, it oversees the entire town. Two guys on guard with sniper rifles.’

‘Gates?’

‘Two. North and South side. Guarded by three men.’

Daryl hums low in his throat. Wipes his nose on his arm.

‘There’s no way in,’ Benjamin says with a glance at his friend. ‘And there’s no way we can take it.’

The hunter nods. He has run out of cigarettes. His fingers itch when he plucks at his lower lip, deep in thought.

Somewhere below them, deep in the park, a door shuts. They watch how Maggie makes her way to the small campfire they keep lit outside. She sinks to the floor beside it, dragging hands through her thick hair and then slamming a fist down in the grass. She slumps, curling into a ball, her back to them.

The wind brings them the soft sound of her broken sobs.

‘We’re running out of time,’ Benjamin says. He hugs himself, trying to keep warm and find some comfort in himself.

Daryl flinches at the words. A miniscule movement, the eyes closing in pain before he refocuses on their horizon, where the forest looms beyond the trailers, where, even further away, the small settlement hides.

‘Remember what I said,’ his friend asks, ‘way back when? About how we’d find Eden somewhere else? Maybe this is it, Daryl.’

‘They tack people to walls and road signs, and you call it Eden?’ Daryl counters. ‘Who says we aren’t next?’

Benjamin doesn’t say anything. He chews on the inside of his cheek.

The hunter remembers all the times he had become the hunted. His blood turns to acid in his veins as long forgotten bruises bloom invisibly on his skin. Bile rises in his throat. The scars on his back burn. He remembers all the times he’d failed them. He almost chokes on Sophia’s name and the wind brings him the songs Beth used to sing. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Rick biting a man to death.

‘What if I lead them to slaughter?’ he asks his friend. He refuses to meet his eye and looks out into the darkness instead. ‘Carol. Michonne. Rick.’ He shivers. ‘Carl.’ He doesn’t want to say Judith’s name. ‘What if they die because of me?’

Benjamin looks at him. ‘They’re already dying.’

‘I promised Rick,’ Daryl starts but he can’t finish. His hands shake as he digs a lighter out of his pocket. It’s an old zippo, silver and engraved, though he never bothered to decipher the name on the bottom. He flicks it open. The flame burst to life in his hand. He watches it dance for a second, fixated, and then moves his right hand to cover it. The flame licks at the palm, charring the skin.

It hurts like hell.

Benjamin reaches over quickly, batting the lighter out of his hands, ‘stop!’

They look at each other.

‘Jesus,’ the blond breathes as he pulls Daryl in a rough embrace. His hand digs into the dark hair with desperation, the other clawing at his back. He kisses the ear of the hunter, ‘I’ve got you.’

Daryl hides his face in the warm neck as the first sob wrecks his body. He tries to breathe through it, to stop, but it’s no use. He cries, desperation clawing at his heart and soul, uncertainty like a noose around his neck, the weight of responsibility crushing all that starvation has left behind.

‘I got you,’ Benjamin says again as he holds on to his friend. Daryl just leans against him, arms limp at his sides . A soothing hand goes through his hair, nails scratching at the base of his skull, while an arm is looped around his waist, careful to keep him upright should his legs give out.

The tears are hot on his cheeks. Tension is bleeding out of his frame, replaced by desperation and dread. His mind races, slows down, skips thoughts as his heart aches for his family. He doesn’t know what to do. He’s so unsure it makes him sick. He wants to ask Rick, he wants Merle back, he want to follow and for everyone to stop looking at him like he’s somehow supposed to know what the best road is.

Maggie’s tears are his fault. Michonne is coughing blood because of him. Rick is dying.

It’s all on him.

‘Look at me,’ Benjamin forces him to lean back. Warm hands on his cheeks, thumbs rubbing at the salt on his cheeks. ‘We’ll get through this.’

He closes his eyes.

‘We _will_ ,’ Benjamin urges. ‘Hey,’ he kisses the tear on his left cheek. ‘They’re mine now, too. Look at me. They’re my family too. I’ve buried my sister. You lost your brother. Never again, okay? We’re not going to lose them again.’

Daryl opens his eyes.

The green eyes of his friend are haunted by memories and loss, but they flash in the darkness.

‘There’s no other way,’ Benjamin says softly. ‘This camp, or town, whatever it is, it’s our only shot at keeping everyone alive. We’re not going to survive on the road. We’re _dying_ , Daryl, but this won’t be our graveyard, okay? I won’t let it.’

Daryl nods a little. He wipes his cheeks dry with a rough hand.

‘They might be fucked up, they might be decent people, we don’t know. We don’t have time to scout or observe. All we can do is take a chance now. On them.’

Daryl shivers. ‘Yeah, I just… ‘s some fucked up people out there, man.’

‘Think you are sane?’ Benjamin asks with a tight smile, echoing the hunter’s words from way back when. His thumb brushes over the beauty mark near his mouth. ‘I’m with you, okay? I’m right here with you. They are _ours_ now. We will protect them.’ He cradles Daryl’s cheek, ‘we’ll do whatever it takes.’ The fingers tighten. ‘ _Whatever_ it takes.’

Daryl nods. ‘Yeah.’

Benjamin nods too and lets the hand drop away. ‘Good.’ The loss of his body heat causes the hunter to shiver. The blond turns towards their horizon again, where the night is dying. ‘Sun’s coming up. Thank fuck,’ he wipes at his forehead, ‘it’s been a long night.’

Daryl grabs the band of his crossbow, fingers turning white against the dark fabric. ‘We’ll go at noon.’

‘Just roll up to their gates?’

‘No other way.’

‘Yeah.’

They watch how their horizon turns gray as the sun starts to come up.

Daryl ducks his head when a thought strikes him, ‘we’re in the deep south.’

‘Hmm,’ Benjamin acknowledges.

‘A lot more men like Gabriel out there. Maybe we should…’ He sighs and looks away.

Benjamin laughs and looks at his friend. ‘Are you breaking up with me?’

Silence rings out between them.

The blond nods. ‘You know, I’ve been shoved into lockers, dunked into toilets, ridiculed whenever a boy caught my attention for too long. Beaten, spat on, jerked around when there wasn’t a pretty girl on my arm. There were many of those,’ he says softly. ‘Samantha, Makayla, Sarah, Ousima. But there was also a Jack, Fabio, Colin. It was easier with the girls. I thought I loved them all, though. Every single time, I thought I was in love.’

Daryl glances at him.

‘Whenever someone said to just leave it,’ he shakes his head and laughs, ‘I’d just hold on tighter. I thought that that was love; holding on. That it was adversity that made the heart grow fonder. Of course, in the end it was just me that was holding on, wanting to be in love still.’ He smirks without any joy in his eyes. ‘When it happened, all the bruises, the names, I thought that was hard. Unbearable, at times. Eighteen years old and bleeding only because you think someone else is fucking amazing. All confused and fucked up, thinking you’re so in love, it feels so right, but everyone keeps saying it’s wrong, disgusting, that you’ll burn for it. I thought it was hard, surviving that.

‘Now I think that might have been the easy part. That was just me, you know? My bruises and my heartache. It’s harder to watch it happen to the ones you care about, I think.’

Daryl stays silent. He thinks about his shirt ripping, of Merle, always so quick with vicious words and then suddenly silent, stammering, trying to find words but choking on guilt and realization instead.

‘So, yeah,’ Benjamin shivers and hunches his shoulders against the wind, curling in on himself. ‘We should probably break up for a while, at least until we know what kind of people we’re dealing with. I don’t like it, let the record show that I’m scowling and pouting like a three year old, but you’re right, even though you’re not saying it. It’ll keep us safer. I know that. Gabriel fell for your cover story, at least. I’ll brush up on my hetero sexual skills.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Daryl offers, his voice soft. ‘Maybe when we figure out who they are, what they want, how things work there.’

‘Yeah, maybe.’ Benjamin takes a deep breath and flashes him a grim smile. ‘Whatever it takes, huh?’

Daryl nods.

‘All right. I’ve got something else to tell you, and this is not… I’m not busting your balls here, okay? I’m not trying to make this more difficult, or complicated or anything. It’s just… I want you to know.’

‘Know what?’

Benjamin looks at him. ‘I’m in love with you.’

Daryl nods because he doesn’t know what to say to that.

‘And not the high school kind either,’ his friend adds with a small laugh. ‘The proper one, if there is such a thing. I just thought it was important for you to know that.’

Daryl pushes his hands into his pockets. He wants to say something to his friend, something real. He kicks his left boot with his right, squints up at the sunrise. ‘I was one of those guys. The one who gave you them bruises? I was just like that. Hell, were a whole bunch of us like that. First at school, later just anywhere. Bars. The streets. Didn’t matter where. We saw one, we’d show them good.’ He shrugs a little. ‘Weren’t my friends or nothing, just people we hung out with.’

Benjamin nods his understanding.

‘Ya were right, way back,’ he scratches his chin on his shoulder, ‘when ya said that it was confusin’ because I’d never… with a guy, you know. We were always going someplace, anyway. Never stuck around long enough to get real with anyone. Didn't really like the fuck and leave thing Merle had going on either, and those girls? No wonder he got the clap on occasion. Think it had him worried, a bit, you know. That I was... Like that.' Daryl moves one hand up so he can gnaw on his thumb for a second. 'Kissed some girls, fucked them too, just to get him off my back for a while. If he were here now,' he scoffs and shakes his head. 'Don't know what he'd do, man. Try to kill you probably. Lord knows we came close with some of the others.'

Benjamin looks at him, mouth just a thin line and eyes distant.

Daryl shrugs. ''s what we did. Ain't proud of it, but 's no point in hidin' it now. You either did it or they did it to you. Already had enough bruised ribs so...' He lets the words die between them. Those nights are nothing more than drunken memories, flashes of balled up fists and blood spat on concrete. 'Anyway,' he clears his throat, ‘doesn’t matter anymore.’ He glances at his friend, dread building in the pit of his stomach.

‘No,’ Benjamin says softly. ‘I guess it doesn’t.’

Daryl bites down on his thumb, hard, before stuffing his hand back into his pocket. ‘I was mad because I thought you’d gotten yourself killed.’

The blond smirks a little at that, ‘not because I’d left?’

‘If you’d died, you wouldn’t have been able to come back. ‘s worse.’

‘Probably would come back, but not in the way you mean.’

‘Don’t even joke about that, man.’

‘Thought I’d try for some more comic relief. Guess it fell flat, huh?’ Benjamin gives his friend a playful shove. ‘Come on. Let’s lighten the mood a bit. Indulge me with another one of my games. It’s been ages since we’ve played and it’ll take our minds off of everything for a bit.’

‘What game now?’

‘Tell me something you don’t miss from before.’

‘How’s that a game,’ Daryl frowns before adding; ‘payin’ taxes.’

‘Oh _come on!_ Don’t tell me you paid taxes, Daryl Dixon.’

He laughs at that, looking away. ‘All right. Don’t miss that group of fuckers I hung out with then.’

‘Fair enough,’ Benjamin grins. ‘I don’t miss… I don’t miss work, I guess. Used to work in this coffee shop, beastly hours; had to open up shop at _seven_. Can you imagine me at seven o’clock in the morning? It wasn’t pretty.’

Daryl grins back even though he can only imagine Benjamin at seven o’clock, covered in blood and dust, bleary eyed, while stumbling towards wherever their watch post is for that night.

‘So I’d open up shop, all hung over and barely alive and all, and then,’ the blond adds with another playful shove, ‘there’d be this damn businessman, you know the type, yeah? Slick suit, two sizes too small, gelled hair, that condescending look in his eyes, asking me to make some damn mocha, mint, soy, whipped cream _disaster_. At seven in the morning! Honestly, who needs that at seven in the morning? Stop laughing! It really wasn’t funny. He was expecting me to be, like, fast and everything, told him to shove it. And then,’ he swats at Daryl when the hunter laughs again, ‘then he told me; _you should have stayed in school if you don’t want to follow orders_.’

Daryl snorts and shakes his head.

‘Can you believe it? Was busting my butt to pay for that damn school and anyway, who the fuck does he think he is? Was.’ The blond licks his lips and the skin around the green eyes wrinkles as he laughs. ‘Should have poisoned his drink. Or at least spat in it or something, but I kind of needed that job to survive. Was such a douchebag.’

‘Ya should have,’ Daryl agrees before he reaches out, grabs Benjamin by the back of his neck and hauls him close. Their mouths crash together, noses scrunch up for a second while lips find their comfortable rhythm. Daryl crowds the other man, his hands moving to the lower back, then down to his ass, pulling him closer, higher, until Benjamin is on his toes and leaning against the strong frame of the hunter. When he sags down again, Daryl bats the hoodie off, needing one hand to be buried in that mess of blond hair.

‘Wow,’ Benjamin laughs breathlessly when they part, their lips almost touching still. ‘Unexpected.’

Daryl grins and kisses the upper lip of the younger man. ‘Hardly.’

‘Talking about hard…’

‘Stop,’ the archer growls but it breaks off into a laugh as he pulls those lean hips to his, ‘still think ya’re fuckin’ annoyin’.’

‘Talking about fucking…’

The blue eyes are positively predatory when the hunter leers at Benjamin. ‘Wanna do that here? On top of a damn trailer, where everyone can see, huh? That your kink now?’ He leans in to suck at the skin just below Benjamin’s jaw. He can feel how the breath hitches.

‘Your line was supposed to be; _stop_ ,’ Benjamin moans.

Daryl kisses his neck before hugging his friend. He sighs into the soft skin, feeling how his body melts into his friend’s, the movement easy and already familiar.

Benjamin buries his face in his neck and rubs his back comfortingly. ‘It’s going to be okay. I got a good feeling about this, Daryl.’

‘If you say so.’

‘I do.’

‘Okay then,’ Daryl presses a kiss to his temple and then steps out of the embrace. He readjusts his bow, cheeks slightly flushed, ‘I… I guess we should go and wake the others. Tell them the plan. Pack our shit up.’

‘Yeah,’ Benjamin smiles and runs a hand through his hair to tame it. ‘Sun’s up, so time to get going. You first,’ he nods at the ladder on the side of the trailer.

The hunter shrugs and carefully climbs down. He skips the last steps, jumping down with a soft grunt instead. After a glance left and right to make sure everything is clear, he looks up at the roof again. ‘All right, come on down.’

Benjamin is standing by the ladder, looking down at him. The sun is rising on their right. The shadows slowly melt around them, changing their world back to color and life. In the orange glow of dawn, Daryl can see the stunned look on his friend’s face.

‘What?’ he asks, backing away from the ladder, looking around again in case he missed something. There’s nothing. He looks back up again.

Benjamin seems frozen on the spot.

‘The fuck’s wrong?’ Daryl hisses.

‘Oh my God.’

‘ _What_?’

Benjamin looks down at him, ‘student loans.’

Daryl stares. ‘The fuck you talkin’ about?’

The blond drops to a crouch, a grin slowly spreading over his features. ‘Student loans!’ He laughs softly, sounding oddly relieved. ‘I had these fucking student loans before all this. They’re gone now, right? Everything went to shit, so… Fuck.’ He laughs, rubbing a hand over his forehead, ‘I owed them my soul, first born, left kidney, and now it’s all gone!’

‘Ya kidney will be glad ta hear it.’

Benjamin laughs, ‘so am I. I’m rather attached to it. Jesus. Can’t believe it took me, what, a year or so, to realize that. My kidney, safe and sound.’

Daryl squints up at him, ‘apocalypse ain’t so bad, huh?’

His friend nods and turns around to start down the stairs. Heavy boots on steel steps, careful even though Daryl is holding on side of the stairs to keep it steady for him. ‘I told you; this is going to be a good day,’ Benjamin murmurs. ‘Got a plan, got my kidneys, everything’s going to be fine. Thanks,’ he nods as his feet land on solid ground and Daryl lets go of the ladder.

‘Ain’t so worried about your soul and firstborn.’

‘Can’t sell what you don’t have,’ Benjamin points out as he heads over to the main trailer so Daryl can gather everyone. ‘I just pledged them to fool those idiots into giving me money. But it’s all gone now!’ He walks in front of Daryl, hips swinging with boyish grace, a hand on his gleaming gun and the hems of his jeans stuffed into the heavy army boots. He throws a look over his shoulder, all smirks and green eyes, ‘hey, apocalypse might not be so bad right now, but stop looking at my ass, Dixon. It ain’t that good a day.’

‘No?’ Daryl pushes Benjamin’s back, causing him to trip up against a trailer and then crowds him again, pushing his chest against the lean back, hands on the cold metal of the trailer.

‘You’re the one who broke up with me,’ Benjamin grins over his shoulder. ‘Besides, don’t act like any of that isn’t freaking you out. Nearly flipped your shit when I told you I wanted to suck you off.’

Daryl huffs a breath of laughter into Benjamin’s skin, ‘didn’t expect such filth from such a sweet mouth.’

Benjamin growls and bites at the mouth near his ear, ‘I’ll show you _sweet_.’

Daryl backs away a fraction so his friend can turn around. They look at each other. Benjamin relaxes against the trailer instead of pouncing on his friend. He lifts a hand to trace the strong cheekbones, the jawline, brushes a thumb down his nose and over his lips.

Daryl kisses the thumb.

‘I love you,’ Benjamin tells him.

Daryl nudges the hand with his nose until Benjamin strokes his cheek.

‘You better remember that, you big sap,’ his friend grins. ‘This is the dog phase.’

The hunter glances away.

‘ _Secret_ dog,’ Benjamin says. ‘We’re at the secret dog phase. And, you know, no one is supposed to look after my dog while I’m away, okay? Just you.’

Daryl shakes his head, ‘you’re bat shit crazy, anyone ever told you that?’

‘Only everyone always.’

Daryl snorts and leans back, pushing himself away from the trailer. ‘All right,’ he steals a final kiss, ‘let’s go.’

‘We should break up more often,’ Benjamin muses. ‘You’re all hands-on this morning.’

‘Shut up.’

Benjamin laughs and follows him back to their main trailer. The amusement fades with every step they take. With a shudder, Benjamin tugs the hoodie back over his blond hair. ‘I’ll get Maggie,’ he murmurs.

‘I’ll get the others,’ Daryl nods.

They go their separate ways.

 

 


	10. Genesis

 

* * *

 

 

It doesn’t take them long to pack up.

Backpacks and sleeping bags are thrown into the boots of the cars, doors slamming shut, the embers of the campfire put out with the heels of boots. The last trailers are searched but they’ve been raided a long time ago. Their provisions have dwindled down to clothes and a few cans of food. They’ve dried some meat, salted it to be able to keep longer, but it’s not enough to keep them going now.

Everyone agreed that the camp is their only choice. But that doesn’t mean anyone likes the idea.

Daryl and Glenn slowly make their way back towards the cars. They’re silent as the Korean counts their steps. The pale lips form the numbers, eyes distant. At the tree line, Daryl takes out his knife and carves a star in the bark of one of the biggest trees.

‘Two hundred and forty three paces,’ Glenn mumbles while he wipes his forehead. ‘North, right?’

Daryl nods and wipes his blade clean on his jeans. Out there, deep in the woods but near enough to reach it quickly should they need to, they’ve buried about half of their ammunition and weapons. ‘Make sure everyone knows.’

‘Everyone?’ The look in Glenn’s eyes is cold.

‘Everyone who needs to know.’

‘We can’t trust him.’

Daryl tilts his chin higher, ‘and we don’t.’

Glenn nods, looks away for a second and then meets his eye again. ‘If he’s a threat to us...’ Something tightens in his jaw, ‘if he’s a threat then we should just end it here.’

‘He ain’t no threat to us,’ the hunter says. ‘Not yet. We saved his ass a thousand times over, and we’re in the deep south now. It might help to have a fuckin’ holy man on our team in order to get into that camp. He owes us.’

‘You think he’ll do what’s right because he _owes_ us?’

‘I think he likes being alive,’ Daryl mutters darkly before clapping his brother on his shoulder, ‘get ready.’

The Korean nods and makes his way over to Maggie, Carol and Tara to inform them of the location. Everyone is hanging around the cars, waiting until they’re ready to go.

Daryl watches his family. Movement near the trailer draws his eye. A door opens and Michonne hops out, turns to help Benjamin who is dragging Rick outside. The sheriff is unconscious, a limp body, dead weight as the blond man struggles to keep him upright. Michonne grabs one of his arms, drapes it over her shoulder and together they carry the cop towards the last car. The shoes drag over the ground.

Carl is standing a good distance away. He looks on as his father is being dragged forward.

‘Hey, kid,’ Daryl calls out, waving him over. He doesn’t want him to see his father that way. Almost dead and so alike to the walkers they clear from their hide-outs that it makes the hunter sick. ‘C’m here.’

Carl’s gaze lingers for a few seconds before he turns on his heels and jogs over. His head bowed and eyes misted over.

‘Got something for ya,’ Daryl says as he digs around in his pack. He pulls out Ricks gun. ‘Here. I think your old man would want ya to look after that for him.’

The boy nods as his fingers close around the cold metal of the Python. He weighs it in his hands before glancing up, ‘think he’s going to be okay?’

‘He better be.’ Daryl feels uncomfortable. He’s never been good with kids. Always too harsh and gruff. He remembers snapping at Sophia to suck it up when the little girl had started to cry at the old people’s home and Lori, putting him back in his place with hissed words and fierce glare. Judith is an exception only because she doesn’t want anything from him except his body heat and rocking, the bottle or food in his rough hands. But Carl is now looking at him, eyes too wet and still trying to seem tough and indifferent. ‘He’ll pull through,’ he hears himself say. ‘He’s got you and Judith to come back for. We’ll get him meds. He’ll be all right.’

Carl nods again. He stuffs the revolver between the waistband of his jeans and the small of his back. The shirt falls over it. ‘We’re really going to that town?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Okay.’ He rubs at his eyes for a second. ‘You want us all to team up? Like the buddy system at school?’

‘Hmm-hmm.’

‘Can I stick with Benjamin?’ The boy squints up at him. ‘I mean, he’s not sick, right?’

‘No, he ain’t sick,’ Daryl says as he watches how his friend heaves Rick into the back of the car. ‘But he’s driving that car. Don’t want you in there with him.’

‘Can I stick with you then?’ Carl glances away, shifts his weight a bit.

‘No.’

The blue eyes are wide when they find Daryl’s again. Hurt flashes across his face. He takes a step back like he’s been slapped and then shuts down, hiding his expression behind a mask of teenage sullenness. He aims a mean kick at a flower growing near his feet. ‘Fine.’ He turns to walk away, shoulders hunched and hands pushed deep into his pockets.

Daryl reaches out to yank him back. The grip on the bony shoulder is hard enough to bruise but the boy barely even flinches. Instead he just stumbles and stares up at the hunter, a hard look in his eyes.

'What?' he snaps.

'Listen,' Daryl makes sure to push his own shoulders back, to relax his body language, and sinks down a bit so they're on level. 'We don't know what we're getting into here, who they are, what they want, if they're even going to let us in. I need you to stay with Judith, all right? Stay around Maggie and Glenn.'

'So I'm babysitting _and_ I'm being babied? I can look after myself! I can _help_.'

Daryl snorts, 'think I don't know that, punk? That's exactly why I want you to stay with Glenn and Maggie, with Judith. That's what they'll see; a scared kid clutching Maggie's legs. Hell, I know that ain't what ya are. But I need you to lay low, all right? If shit goes down, I don't want them to know where the sharpest shot is comin' from.'

Carl narrows his eyes like he doesn't quite believe the hunter.

'I promised ya dad I'd keep ya safe, but... There's not going to be a safe place there. There's no safe place anywhere now. I'm sorry,' he offers the boy. 'They might have thick walls and high towers, but that ain't enough. We know that.'

'People are what's dangerous now,' Carl says. It sounds like he's reciting something. Maybe Rick taught him that. 'People and walkers.'

'We're gonna be those people. We need those meds. We need the food, the shelter to survive winter. And we’re gonna do whatever it takes to get what we need from them. It might go good, it might be all right, but if it goes bad? I’ll need you, too. Ya ain't a kid anymore.'

Carl nods. He almost seems too eager. It pains the hunter to have to ask this from him.

'Need ya to look after Judith for me, okay? And Maggie, too. Everyone.'

'I got them,' the boy confirms, a hand on his gun.

Daryl pats him on the shoulder, 'good. Let's get to them cars. It looks like we're ready to take off.'

Together they walk towards their vehicles. The boy glances up at him every couple of steps. Daryl gives him a small smile and tugs him close for a second, a rough one-sided hug which makes Carl laugh. The thin arms circles Daryl's waist, squeezing tightly before he bounds away to retrieve Judith, who's asleep in Maggie's arms.

Daryl puts his bow on the bike and catches Benjamin's eye for a second.

The blond is leaning on the car door of his vehicle. Arms folded under his chin, a tiny smile around his lips. He signals the hunter with a thumbs up to show that they’re ready to move out.

Daryl dips his chin in acknowledgement.

‘We’re ready,’ Carol says as she walks over. The last car doors slam shut. Benjamin has fallen into his seat, hands loosely on the wheel as he talks to Michonne, who is next to him in the passenger’s seat. In the next car, Glenn is clutching the steering wheel while Maggie is turned to the backseat where Tara, Carl with Judith and Noah are seated. Gabriel is driving the first car. His head is bowed in prayer.

Daryl nods and pushes the bike off its standard, swinging a leg over and landing heavily in the seat.

Carol touches his arm. ‘I’m sorry. Benjamin told us about…. I know what he meant to you.’

The hunter huffs. He kicks the bike to life and helps her to sit down behind him, balancing the heavy machine easily by letting his boots dig into the soft earth. She loops her arms around his waist, tapping his belly to let him know she’s secure. He casts a look over his shoulder.

‘Thought you liked me first.’

The soft laughter is all he needs to casts his own doubts aside. He grips the handlebars, opens up the throttle, the engine growls beneath him, wheels spinning for a second before finding traction on the grass and they speed off towards the main road.

 

The first signs of the settlement are walker traps. Large structures on either sides of the road, a ridge of stakes and spikes, snaking through the trees as far as they can see. They’re made of wood and iron; deadly looking and covered in rotting blood.

Next they come across a big sign. It has been blacked out with paint, hiding whatever it used to indicate. There’s no walker tacked to the metal this time. Instead, swirling white letters spell out a single word:

_Genesis_.

Daryl lets the bike glide by. They’re moving slow, sticking together, but keeping enough distance between the various vehicles for an emergency U-turn. His palms are sweaty. The back of his shirt is soaked, even though the temperature is not that high today. Fear is pooling in his stomach, so cold it burns.

Carol’s hand are on his waist, between his ribs and his hipbones, digging into the softer skin there.

The sound of the cars behind them does nothing to soothe his nerves. It only means that his family is right behind him, following him into this potential death trap.

The road curves, leading them to the right. When it straightens out again, it leads to large metal gates. Walls arise before them, made of wood, and too high to climb without equipment. They are topped off with spikes and barbed wire. There must be a landing because someone is on guard, walking the wall with a heavy gun in his hands.

Daryl watches him, hands shaking on his handlebars.

The man raises the gun. He shouts something to people on the other side of the wall. Gestures towards the gates. Short, precise gestures. Then he holds up a hand in a familiar sign.

_Stop_.

Daryl copies the gesture while letting his bike roll to a slow stop. The cars behind him halt too. He steadies the bike and holds up his second hand in surrender.

The man shouts something else, the words lost due to the distance and wind between them.

The gates open. They part smoothly, revealing a small squad of men and women, heavily armed. They come towards him with raised guns.

‘Who are you?’ A woman asks. She’s walking in front of the others, her tread careful and slow, finger on the trigger as she peers at the group before her. Her blond hair is pulled back in a high pony tail. It swings in time with her steps.

Daryl wonders what the fuck that matters, who they are. Obviously they’re strangers. That is all that matters in this new world but Carol still digs her fist into his back, prompting him to speak up.

‘Daryl,’ he shouts back, ‘I’m Daryl.’

‘Get off the bike.’

He kicks the standard out and steadies the vehicle as Carol steps off first. Then he swings his leg over easily, moving to stand in front of his friend.

The woman is close now, her team hangs back. She’s young but Daryl can see she’s battle-hardened by the way she moves and dresses. The clothing is dark and comfortable. A knife blinks on her belt. A second gun is strapped to her left thigh.

‘Are you armed?’ she asks.

He scoffs at the stupid question. ‘’Course we’re fuckin’ armed.’

‘Why are you here? How big is your group, Daryl?’

‘Sixteen people,’ Daryl says with a glance at the cars behind him. ‘One of them is just a baby. We saw them signs, out on the road. You have food. Medicine.’

‘We do,’ the woman says carefully. ‘I need you to put your guns on the ground. Then we can talk. Do it slowly.’

Both he and Carol grab their guns and put them on the hot asphalt. They raise their hands again for good measure. Carol steps out from his shadow. ‘Four of our people are sick. We need your help or they won’t survive.’

‘What’s your name?’

‘Carol,’ she says with a hesitant smile.

The woman is now close enough to speak on normal volumes. ‘What kind of sick?’

‘Some kind of virus, we think. It started with coughs, fevers, now one of them is unconscious and another is coughing up blood. Please. We’ve got some guns to trade, but we don’t have any food left.’

‘We don’t trade. We share.’ The woman side-steps towards the edge of the road so she has a clear view of all the vehicles. ‘Daryl, I’m going to need you to get your group out of those cars. One by one. They have to drop their weapons and slowly walk towards the gates.’

‘You’re taking us in?’ Carol asks as Daryl walks towards the first car, opening the door to let Gabriel out. He murmurs the instructions and the father follows suit. Next he moves to Glenn’s car.

‘If you’re just here for medicine, we’ll treat you and send you on your way,’ the woman says. ‘But we have room if you choose to stay. We’ll have to interview you, but if you fit in, you can stay.’

Carol’s eyes are wide when she meets Glenn’s wary gaze. Maggie gets out too, ushering Carl to stay with her, her arms looped around the boy.

‘One by one,’ the woman calls out sharply, raising her gun again. ‘First the guy, then the kid, the woman goes third. Go.’

Glenn throws his guns on the floor and starts walking.

‘What’s your name?’ Daryl hears Carol ask while he helps Noah out of the car before moving on to Benjamin’s vehicle, repeating the instructions under his breath.

‘I’m Raeanne,’ the woman answers. Her gun lowers as she watches how Carl put his guns on the hood of the car before slowly walking towards the gates. Judith is in his arms. ‘Oh my gosh,’ she takes a step forward, causing the boy to narrow his eyes at her and tighten his hold on his sister. ‘Is that your sister?’

Carl nods.

Raeanne smiles, ‘you two have the same eyes. Is she okay?’

‘Just hungry,’ the boy mutters. ‘We all are. And our dad… he’s, he’s sick.’

The woman nods, ‘okay, go ahead and join your friends on the other side of the gate. We’ll get a doctor out to have a look at him.’

Maggie goes next. Then Noah. Tara. Abraham who is allowed to carry Rosita in. Michonne. Sasha. Eugene.

Benjamin gets out of the car with raised hands. ‘There’s one more of us, but I need Daryl to help carry him. He’s unconscious.’

‘Put your gun on the vehicle,’ Raeanne says before walking over to them and leaning in to the car to catch a glimpse of Rick, curled up on the backseat. ‘I’ll get a stretcher out here.’ She grabs a walkie-talkie from her belt and requests a doctor and carrier. She nods at the response and gives Daryl a tight smile. ‘They’ll be out in a second.’

‘What is this place?’ Benjamin asks as he looks at the high walls.

‘This is a new beginning. It’s Genesis,’ Raeanne says with a hint of pride in her voice. ‘My husband, Davis, runs this place. It used to be a planned community. Prefab houses, but they served us good. We have 73 locals now. There’s enough food to go around, water. We have a doctor. We even have power.’

Benjamin raises an eyebrow, ‘ _power_?’

‘Electricity. Hot water too.’

‘You mean I might not have to camp?’

He sounds so hopeful that it makes Raeanne laugh. She holsters her gun but still takes a step back to keep some distance between them. The members of her squad still have a clear shot. ‘That’s exactly what I mean. We’ll get some hot food in you, have your people looked after and then you’ll have to sit down with Davis for your interviews, if you want to stay. There’s the doctor.’

Two men and a woman come running from the gates. The men carry a stretcher and put it down beside the car. The woman puts her hand briefly on Raeanne’s shoulder, ‘you called it in?’

Raeanne nods, ‘male, in his forties maybe, unconscious.’

Daryl frowns as the woman rips the door of the car open, ‘hey!’ He says, stepping forward as she tilts Rick’s head towards her, prying his eyes open and feeling in his neck for a pulse. ‘Get your hands off of him!’

‘She’s our doctor,’ Raeanne says just as Benjamin grabs Daryl’s wrist to pull him back again.

‘What’s his name?’ the woman asks curtly, undisturbed by the hostility of the hunter. ‘How long has he been unconscious?’

‘About twenty four hours,’ Benjamin supplies when Daryl stubbornly crushes his teeth together. ‘His name is Rick Grimes. He’s got two kids.’

Daryl isn’t sure what that last bit of information has to do with anything but the woman looks back at Benjamin and give him a quick smile. ‘We’re going to do everything we can for your friend, okay? Please move back.’

A hand on his belly and Daryl is pushed back gently. He and Benjamin watch as the two men stop forward and drag Rick out of the car, putting him on the stretcher and then rushing him off, towards the town.

Another man of the squadron is now making his way towards the cars. He collects their weapons in a big black bag.

Daryl watches with narrowed eyes.

Raeanne looks at him. ‘You’ll get them back when you leave, or whenever you leave the gates. You won’t need them inside Genesis.’

‘You’re takin’ our weapons?’

She nods, ‘but you can keep your knifes. I know what it’s like, coming here after being outside for so long. Keep them on you if it helps, but you won’t need them. Genesis is safe.’

‘Where are they takin’ Rick?’

‘To the medical bay. I’ll take you there. Please follow me, Daryl.’ She turns on her heels and walks away towards the gates.

Daryl looks out at the forest for a moment. Then his gaze shifts to Benjamin, ‘what do ya think?’

Benjamin shrugs as they fall in step behind the blonde woman. ‘ _We must remember that the future is neither wholly ours nor wholly not ours, so that neither must we count upon it as quite certain to come nor despair of it as quite certain not to come._ Epicurus.’ Benjamin scratches at his cheek. ‘But they seem like good people, Daryl.’ 

The hunter nods but his hand wanders to his knife. ‘What about those _interviews_?’ He spits the word out like it’s something vile.

‘What?’ his friend asks him with raised eyebrows. ‘You think they won’t fall for your charming personality?’

Daryl grunts.

‘Fuck them. I got this,’ Benjamin laughs, wiping the blond hair out of his face. ‘After all, I charmed Daryl Dixon into owning a secret dog with me, think I can’t charm our way into a town like this? Where everything is community and sharing and social? This is my scene. Besides, those gates? Don’t look like the gates of hell to me.’

‘ _Abandon all hope, ye who enter here_ ,’ Daryl mutters.

‘Dante,’ Benjamin supplies with a nod and fond smile.

They join their group, who are huddled together just inside the gates. Raeanne is observing them from a small distance. Benjamin slinks away to stand next to Tara, slinging an arm around her waist and tugging her close.

Daryl stalks over to Raeanne. ‘Ya said you’d take us to Rick.’

‘And I will.’ She meets his gaze steadily. Her eyes are a muddle of brown and blue, shifting color whenever the light changes. ‘I wanted to give you the lay of the land first. My people will move your vehicles inside in a moment. Your weapons will be stored in a secured location. I will show that later, you can check them out whenever you go outside the walls. Okay?’

Daryl shifts his weight. ‘All right.’

‘All right,’ Raeanne echoes. Then she steps around him, heading for the group.

Daryl looks down the road. There are rows and rows of houses. Large white structures, sprawling lawns and flowerbeds. There’s a small church in the distance, a square, a watchtower. People cross the streets. A woman is on her hands and knees in her garden, planting flowers. A sunhat protects her from the last summer heat. She stops to look at them. She waves.

A man and woman walk down the street, hands clasped together and swinging gently between them. Their heads are bend close together, words whispered in ears. After a second the woman lean away to laugh loudly, slapping the man’s shoulder and pushing him away playfully. The guy grins. He catches Daryl’s eye, blinks, and then raises a hand in greeting.

Daryl turns away.

The cars roll past him. A guy parks the bike next to him. He compliment the ride, hands running over the heated metal, but the hunter ignores him and just grabs his bow, slinging it over his shoulder so it rests on his back once more.

Raeanne beckons him over.

He steps up beside her.

Together, they turn towards his group. The woman smiles.

‘Welcome to Genesis, everyone.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to anyone who left kudos, comments or had a quick look. You are the reason I'm still writing.
> 
> Let me know what you thought about this part of the series, I love reading your opinions.   
> The next part will begin soon.


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